Resistance
by dosiadb
Summary: At Bill and Fleur's wedding, Hermione is captured by Death Eaters. Voldemort requests that Draco be her primary interrogator, thinking that he'll know ways inside her mind because he knew her in school. What Voldemort doesn't realize is that Draco is having doubts of his own, and may not be getting all that he's bargaining for.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Death Eaters appeared in the dimly lit front hall of Malfoy Manor in rapid succession. Their exclamations of triumph echoing off the cold, marble walls and floor. The attack on the Weasley wedding was a greater success than they had hoped for one key reason.

Doors flew open at the far end of the dark hall and all voices halted as their master entered slowly.

"What is the meaning for all this noise?" Voldemort demanded.

Bellatrix Lestrange came forward dragging a limp female body behind her. She wore a maniacal smile on her face. "My Lord, the boy was there, but he was too well protected, although we caught the entire party completely off guard. But, we captured the brains behind their little trio," she said as she threw Hermione Granger at Voldemort's feet.

Voldemort betrayed no emotion about the capture. He bent down slowly, taking a long finger and mechanically pushed the girl's hair out of her face.

"Excellent work," he said, standing up.

"All of you, leave me now! I will take care of the Granger girl myself."

* * *

><p>Before Draco was summoned to the Dark Lord he had heard of Granger's capture. He had been part of the raid - that bloody Potter had disarmed him and took his wand, leaving him to fend for himself without magic. Capturing anyone was the least of his concern at that point. All he wanted was to get out alive and to escape capture himself.<p>

It was Aunt Bellatrix who had captured her, much to Voldemort's pleasure. She had essentially solidified her position as his most prized and valuable follower with this success. Now, as Malfoy stood before Voldemort with Granger laying, unconscious at his feet, covered in cuts and bruises already, he wondered why he was called to a private meeting with the Dark Lord. After the last mission, he dreaded any new responsibilities. All he wanted was to float along, under his radar. He wanted to live for awhile without feeling that is life is on the line after he only just started to regain the peace of mind and the weight he'd lost. He was finally beginning to look and feel like himself again.

Voldemort had not been pleased that the plan was modified at the last second. Draco knew that he was supposed to kill Dumbledore, and to hopefully lose his life in the attempt. It was only because of Severus that he wasn't killed for hesitating to kill the man, and Voldemort wouldn't take weakness from him again.

"As you were part of this successful raid, you are already aware of our great success last night, so I don't need to go over the details. But as you see here, we have Potter's mudblood friend with us."

Draco nodded. "It truly is a great success, my Lord."

"Yes. Things have been going my way the past few months. First Dumbledore, now this girl. But I am very angry right now," Voldemort said slowly. He levitated Granger's limp body in front of him and Draco could finally see her face, which had been turned away from him and covered by her thick hair. She still wore her dress from the wedding, although it was crumpled and torn in places now.

Draco was reminded of how she looked dressed up for the Yule Ball, and their encounter late in the night.

_"Look what we have here. A distraught, crying Granger, caught off her guard," Draco said, coming up to the hidden stairs Hermione sat crying on._

_"Go on, call me mudblood and whatever else you'd like. Just get it over with so I can get on with my evening," Hermione replied half-heartedly._

_"What's this now? Defeatist Granger? Don't think I've ever seen this before..are you just upset about a little fight with a certain weasel?" Draco replied, mocking her._

_She turned bright red and seemed about to scream._

_"You really are upset because Weaselbee is a bloody git? Think you'd know that by now, Granger." The pure mocking, insulting tone was almost gone, and he sounded more shocked than anything._

_"Sometimes, I'd like to be able to forget," she said through gritted teeth._

_"You're too smart for that git," Draco said, pointing out what was so obvious to him. "Too bad you're a mudblood."_

_Suddenly Hermione lashed out at him. "Get away from me!"_

_Draco laughed and walked away._

Draco had completely forgotten about that conversation, which now felt like a lifetime ago. But his sentiments remained the same. She looked better than anyone else at that ball, and those looks combined with intelligence made it a pity she wasn't a pureblood. He felt certain that if he'd seen her at the wedding, he would've felt just as floored by her appearance as he was that night all those years ago. But now she was just covered in dirt and bruises from the fight, and likely from the torture the Dark Lord undoubtedly inflicted on her since.

"What a pity that such a fine looking specimen must be so dirty on the inside. Don't you agree, Draco?" Voldemort said, running a long finger from Hermione's temple to jaw, causing her to go rigid.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied, suddenly fearful the Dark Lord could read his thoughts. He knew he couldn't, he hadn't felt his groping presence in his mind. Plus he was highly skilled at occlumency so there was no chance Voldemort was getting into his mind. But still, he redirected them back to on the task at hand.

"Draco...I have discussed with your father and Severus, and we agree that you are ready for another responsibility of extreme importance to my cause," Voldemort said as he turned around to look at Malfoy. "While things did not go as planned last time, you did get us into the castle. That was essential and I like to reward those who do their best work for me with greater responsibility."

"My Lord, I am honored. What is it that you ask of me?" Draco said, kneeling down before him in gratitude. He hid his extreme nervousness, as the last time he was asked to do something for this man, his life was on the line, everyone's life was on the line. And he was asked to commit murder. Draco braced himself for what the Dark Lord would ask, fearful it would be another task setting him up for failure.

"I am placing you in charge of getting information from this girl. She will be challenging. She let nothing out for me in the last few hours. And as tempted as I am to kill her, I know that she will be a useful asset for finding the boy. So I need to keep her alive but I have many things to attend to in the upcoming months, so I cannot devote the time I need to getting information from this girl. Your aunt Bellatrix spoke up for the responsibility, and while she is naturally suited to these sorts of assignments, I think this one is perfect for you."

"I will do whatever you ask of me with regards to Granger," Draco replied, his tension mounting. He knew that he was no tormentor. Sure, in words he could be ruthless. And there was a time when he'd have given anything to have Granger at his disposal. Like after that time she punched him in third year. But he knew there were strings attached to Voldemort's request.

"Excellent," Voldemort said slowly. "I am asking you because you know her better than anyone else here. It was Severus' idea and your father was in full support. We all think you could get more out of her than others. You can get inside her mind. You know what really makes her tick."

"I will get you the information, my Lord. Her mind will slowly be broken down, by whatever means necessary," Draco said, his mind racing as he thought of ways, any way to approach this assignment.

"Good. Now, I'll have her transported to a cell until she awakes from the potion I gave her, which should happen in a few hours. You will then take her to her room in the dungeons then. She has a different situation than others, since the two of you might need privacy at times. In the morning, you'll begin interrogations."

"Yes, my Lord," Draco replied.

Voldemort paused a moment, but Draco knew better than to leave before being dismissed. "Draco, I hope you feel the honor of this task you have at hand here."

"I do my lord. I am grateful to serve you this way."

"I am glad. You must do what you can to get something out of her. But I do want you to recognize that she will not be easy. She has surely trained for this and she is loyal to that infuriating boy and believes she would rather die than betray him. So, I will be expecting some information from you by the end of September. You have one month, because she will be difficult. She would be even for me, and I will be stopping in from time to time if I believe progress is not being made."

"Yes, my lord."

"So you understand everything?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Good. And anything you get out of her, it comes straight to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

"If I am not present, as I will be moving about on important matters more and more in the upcoming weeks, you have permission to tell Severus. But ONLY Severus. Not your father, mother, girlfriend, or anyone else you have in your life. If I catch wind anyone else knows...well, I think you know what will happen, young Draco."

"Yes, my lord. I understand."

"Good. You are dismissed."

Draco bowed his head and walked briskly from the room to his own quarters.

Only when he left the room did he allow his thoughts to surface again. He was furious. Just when he thought he wouldn't be asked to do anything with high stakes after Voldemort's displeasure over Dumbledore, his father and Severus talk him into giving a second chance. A second chance Malfoy couldn't bear the thought of.

_This will ruin everything, _he thought as he opened the door to his room. When he entered the room, he noticed a box which could only be for a wand sitting on his desk. He remembered that his mother was going to find him another wand, since he'd lost his to Potter. As he opened the box, he was distracted by an owl that suddenly flew into his room and perched itself on the chair by his desk his windowsill. As he looked at it he sighed. He was exhausted and hoped it wouldn't be anything important. It was late and he still hadn't had a chance to sleep in all the frenzy after the raid. There were some injuries to attend to, everyone was wondering about the Granger girl, and at least half of the death eaters were conspiring to find Potter themselves to earn Voldemort's favor.

Malfoy grabbed the note from the owl and fed it a treat. It was one he wasn't familiar with. Curiosity piqued, he opened the letter quickly and began to scan it. As he read though, he his mood fell even further as annoyance added onto his already established anger.

_Dear Draco,_

_How are has your summer holiday been? Mine has been lovely. I've been in Nice where I strolled the beautiful French seaside and got a perfect tan. I can't say my French has improved at all, but it is still so beautiful here. What I really wanted to know is if you would like to stop by for tea this Saturday afternoon? We could catch up and I would just love to see you before school starts again._

_Astoria xo_

_XO? _Draco thought to himself, completely confused as to how she got the idea they were ever on "catching up" terms or on anywhere near friendly enough terms to share hugs and kisses in her closing. If they were, she'd know that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts this year. This was the third letter he'd received from her and he planned on ignoring it like the other two. The last thing he needed on top of this horrible assignment was that girl breathing down his neck.

Letting the parchment fall to his desk, he tried to bring his mind back to more important matters. Granger. Torturing Granger. He could hardly wrap his head around what happened in the past few hours to lead to this point. Almost without thinking, he started towards his bed. What he needed was sleep. The exhaustion was getting in the way of his ability to think through what just happened, what he was just asked to do. So he threw himself face first on his bed and slept.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Three hours later, Draco awoke to the alarm he'd set for retrieving Granger. He pulled himself up from his bed and looked at himself in his mirror real quick, fixing his shirt to get rid of some of the creases that formed during his nap. After a moment of messing with them, he just shrugged and turned to the door. It hardly matter if he looked put together enough to walk to the dungeons to move a prisoner. If his father or anyone else saw him and complained that he looked a mess, he was beyond caring.

What he really wanted at this moment was to get out of this whole situation. He wanted nothing to do with Voldemort, nothing to do with this plan. He wanted to stay the hell away from Granger because she'd never done anything but get under his skin and he certainly didn't care to find out where Potter was. Keeping her as a prisoner here didn't even make sense. They were likely expecting Potter to come to the rescue, which he undoubtedly would, but it was too soon for that kind of attack. The Dark Lord was still gathering his forces and he'd overheard a conversation between his aunt and Severus that suggested he was momentarily in a slightly weakened state. He didn't know why, but their conversation sounded urgent, and Draco tried to hear more, but they had continued down the hall and Draco knew better than to follow. It was all out of his hands anyways.

Everything was out of his hands, even his own life, which was once again on the line. Only this time he knew better than to see any glory in it. He'd made that mistake once before and it nearly got him killed.

_How could I escape from this? _he wondered to himself. It wouldn't make sense to just run. Where would he go? And how could he leave his mother? Draco knew full well he'd gotten himself in over his head and he didn't know where to turn. Almost a year ago he'd been given an assignment that he wanted desperately to succeed in - alone. Now he was wishing Severus would help him again, but he wasn't sure that line would even still be open. All he'd done in the past year was curse him for trying to get involved, for trying to help. He should've taken those offers, he wished he could take him up on that offer now. But he couldn't because he'd ruined it. All because he was blinded by his own childish dream for glory.

But Severus, as he'd noticed had been keeping an eye on him still. They had not spoken much. Although Draco knew he should've thanked him for saving him from killing Dumbledore. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He was getting himself so worked up that when he actually saw Severus coming around the corner of the hallway that led to his father's quarters, he couldn't hold back his fury.

"How could you!" Draco burst out at Severus. He had evidently just been talking with Lucius. This wasn't where he wanted to have this conversation, where they could be overheard, but he had to say something. He also realized as he spoke that this was the first real conversation they'd had in months, and it wasn't exactly the way Draco should've been going about it. Especially from someone who could potentially still help him.

"Me? What are you talking about?" Snape replied, as though he was completely innocent in all things. This made Draco even more angry. He wanted someone to blame - anyone but himself for not having a backbone to do what he really wanted to do. To get the hell out of this mess.

"How could you support this idea? He's trying to get me killed!" Draco said in low tones. It was more than he should've said, but he needed to understand.

"It all worked out last time didn't it?" Snape said calmly. He made to walk around Draco, to avoid his pestering, as he was deep in thought about the state of current affairs and he'd told Draco he'd discuss everything with him later. Not now.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco persisted, after following him down the hall for a good ten seconds to put more space between him and his father's office.

"Whatever do you mean?" Snape asked innocently yet again.

Draco put his hand on Snape's shoulder to stop him. "It's dangerous keeping her here! How can you not realize that? It will bring them right to our feet and it's too soon! Do you not see the danger of having her here?"

Slowly, Snape looked from Draco's hand on his shoulder up to Draco's face with murder in his eyes. Draco took the hint and dropped his hand at once. "It is better that she's here for the time being...you'll see," Snape said cryptically.

Draco looked at him perplexed. Why was it that although he watched this man kill Dumbledore, he still wasn't sure about what his real motives were. He kept everything hidden, and answered nothing with a clear response. "I am not even sure where your loyalties lie anymore."

Severus smirked. "And what about you Draco?" Snape said becoming more serious in tone. "You're in a very precarious position here, don't you forget it."

Draco scowled. "What are you suggesting?"

"How do you think the Dark Lord would take this line of conversation coming from you?"

Draco was quiet for a moment and looked down. Severus was right. If he was overheard right now, it would be a disaster. This kind of conversation could get them both in trouble for doubting the Dark Lord's orders. But Draco persisted. "I just don't understand why the Dark Lord thinks I should have her. It's Granger! She disgusts me."

"I believe your father put him up to it. But I supported him completely."

"Father? But why should he think she'd be of any interest to me?"

"Use your brain Draco."

Draco thought for a moment. "Father is using me for some scheme to gain favor with the Dark Lord."

Snape gave a curt nod. "He's been concerned about your family's diminished position. You know things haven't been the same since you failed to kill Dumbledore yourself. And there was that disaster of your father's in the ministry before that. The Dark Lord is beginning to think the lot of you aren't...committed."

"He's setting me up to fail!" Draco pointed out yet again. "The only reason I'm not already dead is because he listened to you when you told him without me none of his death eaters would've made it into the castle, even if I didn't manage to kill Dumbledore myself."

"Exactly. So show some gratitude and do this task you were appointed. I supported your father because this job will give you the security you need. And for your family, as I know you desire."

"But Granger will never give me information!" Draco persisted, not seeing any security in the situation. He was certain that within the month he'd be dead, and Granger too for not cooperating.

"You'll think of something."

"You're trying to have me killed too!" Draco seethed.

"Don't be so dramatic. You're starting to sound like a paranoid child."

"What else do you expect to happen?" Draco demanded.

"You will do your job. Now, if you'll excuse me. I must be getting some work done and I believe you have a...guest...to attend to," Snape said with complete finality and Draco knew better than to push him any further.

Malfoy was going to push his father on this, but decided to see Granger for himself first. He also was not up for being shut down in an attempt to get out of this assignment again, which he could already predict would happen.

As he walked to her cell, Malfoy tried to remember the last time he'd even talked to Granger. They made it sound as though he spent a significant amount of time around her every day while in school. But he couldn't even remember the last conversation he'd had with her. In class he pestered her when the moment arose, but aside from that, he did not talk to her. He rarely saw her outside of class or common areas, did not have many more than a handful of conversations with while no one else was present. It was in winter the last time this happened. The memory came to him suddenly.

_"Well, well, Granger is upset. Please tell me it's about that git again," Malfoy said, coming to stand in front of her with an amused expression. It was a deserted hallway, not too far from where he learned the Gryffindor common room was located. She was just leaving a room that she'd evidently been sitting in all alone, crying._

_She looked startled to see him. "Get away from me Malfoy, I'm in no mood."_

_"What were you doing in there, Granger?"_

_She appeared about to answer with something snarky, but then looked at him differently, as though really realizing who she was talking to. "I think a better question is what you've been up to all this year, Malfoy. It's clear you're up to something."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"Don't you remember last year, when you accused us of being up to something?"_

_"Well, you were," Malfoy pointed out._

_"Just as you are now. We know you're up to something."_

_"Don't test me, Granger. You have no idea what I've done. What I'm capable of," he stated, in low, threatening tones._

_She gave him a once over. "You look incredibly sick and hardly capable of anything."_

_"I've been practicing, Granger," Malfoy said, pulling out his wand. "I bet I could take you in a fight this time. In fact, I know I could. Especially when you're this upset, letting your emotions get the better of you."_

_"You think so? Did you see Ronald running down the hall?" Hermione asked drily._

_"You did that?" Malfoy said, and he could hardly keep the amusement and admiration from his voice. He hid in the shadows as he saw Ron running down the hall, shouting and slapping at the birds attacking him. Realizing that she caused that brilliant spectacle he witnessed a few minutes ago made him smile. This internal strife of the trio amused him greatly._

_Hermione actually smirked. "He deserved it."_

_"Because of that Brown girl he was with?"_

_Hermione glared at him, daring him to say more. He didn't, taking her lack of response as his answer. As he looked at her, he almost felt for her, especially as the strain of his own life caught up with him in the few moments of silence. Remembering the internal pain he'd been struggling through, for one moment he didn't want to inflict it on someone else._

_"Again, Granger, because we went over this two years ago, the last time that git pissed you off, you're too smart for him. Bloody moron probably didn't even know what hit him," he said, beginning to laugh at the image of the Weasel running down the hall with the birds pecking at his face. It was something he'd store away in his memory banks for any time he'd need a good laugh in the future._

_"Well, I'll tell you, it's the last time it's happening. I'll show him. Do something like take that wretched McClaggen to the Slug Club Christmas part. See how he likes that."_

_"Ohh, what's this now? Granger is devious too? I never would've guessed."_

_"It's in there, reserved for particular moments for special effect."_

_Malfoy smirked and moved closer to her without realizing what he was doing. He was intrigued by this side of the do-gooder Granger. And he found himself recalling how she looked at the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Not even he could deny how stunning she looked. And even now he realized for the first time it didn't take a dress and over the top makeup for her to look as nice. All of her early teenage awkwardness was gone._

_"Well, Granger, I don't doubt you'll handle yourself perfectly. Especially if you look half as good as you did at the Yule Ball," he said as he walked past her, lowering his voice so she had to strain closer to him to hear. "Goodnight, Granger," he said catching site of her perplexed look as he walked away. Let her stew over that._

Malfoy smirked as he remembered the conversation and how he'd left it. He'd always wanted to incorporate more time into his schedule for making Granger uncomfortable, after he realized borderline flirting with her was a perfectly legitimate means for doing so. But plans for Voldemort became too demanding, and he soon forgot all about that conversation. Attempts to remember any conversations after that fell from his mind as he thought of how he could use those tactics in the cell here. But then again, that wouldn't get her to talk. It would just make her uncomfortable, and him too, after a certain point.

* * *

><p>Hermione sat in her cell in almost complete darkness. She shivered continuously as there was a draft coming from somewhere above her and there was no escaping the cold stone of the walls and floor. The only light she saw came from the latch opened to give her food and water each day. She'd only been awake a short time when she was nearly blinded by a sudden onslaught of light coming from the area by the latch.<p>

"Granger," the voice of Draco Malfoy said, and she inwardly groaned. He was here to torment her in some way. To gloat and to demean her in the same childish ways he resorted to all throughout school. She had not seen him when she first arrived, she hadn't even thought of it, and she was mildly surprised to see him here now.

"You have to stand up and follow me."

"Where?" she demanded. She may be a prisoner but she would not roll over. She was determined to find a way out, to never allow the tactics of Voldemort to overcome her senses.

"You will not question me," he said with a warning in his tone.

"Where are you taking me?" she said again without moving.

"Granger, cut the crap. I have a wand, you don't. I can either knock you out and you can be transported there or you can simply accept that you cannot fight here, and walk."

Hermione ground teeth together and stood seething. Finally she said, "Fine, let's go."

Draco then swiftly blind-folded her and guided her to her new chamber.

They reached the room, and Draco promptly removed the blindfold. When Hermione's eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, she noted all the walls were of large, grey stones, and the floors a dingy pale wood. There was a flimsy looking cot with paper thin sheets and a barely existent pillow. There was a chair in the opposite corner and chains on the left wall. It was one of the smallest rooms she'd ever seen.

Draco swept into the room and pulled the chair into the center of the room, which meant it was practically touching the bed. He sat on it and gestured for her to sit on the bed. Hermione acquiesced, at this point hardly even sure what else she could do. There truly was no way out.

She looked at him, sitting far closer to him than she ever cared to. He wasn't looking directly at her, and it was at this point she recognized he felt uncomfortable, as though he had no idea what he really wanted to say or do.

"Do you know what you're here for, Granger?" he said after a few moments of silence.

She glowered at him, refusing to answer. She noted that he didn't look quite as sick as he had just a few months ago as the school year drew to a close. As he'd been working more and more on that cupboard, he'd started to look worse and worse. He had put on a bit more of his natural weight, the startling grey eyes no longer overshadowed by dark circles from sleepless nights.

He laughed at her frustration. "Actually, forget I asked that," he said before she could open her mouth. "I'll just tell you. Better than hearing whatever obnoxious comment is sure to leave your mouth...you're here to give us information. And I'm to get it out of you. I'm to make you a slave to my will for all intents and purposes. You are expected to bend to my every will and desire, I am expected to break you. However I can do it, just so long as I get information from you."

"I'll never tell you anything. I'd die first," she ground out.

"Yes, that's all very brave and noble of you, but if you know what's good for you, you'll give me information. Any information. And now that we've cleared that up, I'll let you know of the protocols. I'll be down here almost every day. The Dark Lord has declared that getting information from you is my top priority. There is a toilet through the door, there," he said pointing towards the back wall, "and every other day, someone will be down to lead you to a dungeon shower, just down the hall. You're quite lucky. Typically our prisoners just rot in their own filth, but I am to make you bend to me in _any _way possible, so I requested you be..ah..clean, or I'd go nowhere near you."

Hermione blanched. "You'll still stay the bloody hell away from me if you know what's good for you!"

"If you cooperate, we can both avoid that situation, which, I can assure you, I don't care to experience either."

He stood up sharply. "Now, someone will be down in the morning to take you to the showers, and you will receive two meals each day. I'll begin my interrogations tomorrow."

And with that, he swept from the room.

* * *

><p>Draco simply could not linger there. He was uncertain of what exactly he needed to do in order to torture her. He had no experience. Talking to her was out of the question, she was insufferable. Her gall at acting like she still had some authority over her being irritated him because it would make his job that much harder. Why couldn't she just play along?<p>

He wanted to talk to his father now before he went to sleep, to try and understand more why he thinks he needs to be used to prove loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Reaching his office, he knocked. He heard his father's voice beckon him in and he slowly opened the door.

Lucius looked up from his desk only a moment to see who was entering. His eyes then returned to the letter he was writing. "Ah, Draco. Have you seen to your prisoner yet?"

"I have."

"And? What's her condition? Is she likely to give in easily?" Lucius asked, now looking up from his desk.

"Father, what are you thinking, convincing the Dark Lord to let me interrogate her?" he asked in what he hoped was a somewhat polite tone.

Lucius put his quill down and looked sternly at Draco. Draco knew he'd be irritated at having to explain his rationale. "If you succeed, Draco, you will restore our family's name with him. I'm doing what I can! But he cannot be satisfied...I fear we're on our last leg," he admitted softly, letting a small amount of weakness show in his tone.

"I am telling you, I know her, she is Potter's best friend. She'll die first," Draco persisted.

"Draco, I know you want nothing to do with the mudblood bitch. I know you may not yet be comfortable with the methods you may need to use to coerce her. But consider this a practice in the skills you must develop to survive in our world. You exhibited weakness with Dumbledore, no matter how Snape spun that story."

Draco turned to shield his face from his father. He was sick of being told he'd been weak. Who was his father to judge!

"It's time you take your place as a man in this family and do your share of protecting the family honor. And in one year's time, you'll be marrying Astoria. So I suggest you start doing your duty there too and begin playing nice with her."

"Is there anything else father?" Draco remembered a time when he could be a real snot to his father and get his way. Now, when things were on the line, his father was pulling in the reins and Draco knew that if he didn't comply, he'd be on the chopping block.

"That is all you should understand. Now if you've nothing else to discuss, I have some important matters to attend to."

Draco gave a curt nod, still not looking at his father, and then turned from the room. There was no getting out of the assignment. He was doomed, and he felt he was certainly doomed to fail.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Draco arrived again the next day, Hermione thought he still did not seem anywhere near comfortable.

"Granger," he said calmly, but without meeting her eyes.

Hermione just stared in response and he was forced to look at her in question of why she wasn't responding.

Malfoy made a frustrated noise and shifted on his feet. "Well, I'm here for the first round of interrogations. I'll be expecting some kind of information out of you on a regular basis if you don't want things to get ugly." He scowled as usual, but he was shifty, seemingly completely uncertain of where to stand, how to stand or where to look, so he paced around before her erratically.

Despite her clear position of vulnerability, Hermione did not feel too threatened by what stood before her. She always knew Malfoy wasn't as tough as he pretended, but this was beyond what she thought. She'd figured he'd be thrilled for this chance to take out his years of tormenting on her to the fullest extent. But instead, he stood in front of her barely making eye contact and half-heartedly made threats.

Finally, he sat down on the only chair in the room. He then looked her full in the face, as though he'd finally decided on something.

"So, anything you'd like to tell me today? You could make this real easy for both of us," he said.

"I'm not telling you anything, Malfoy. You know that I'd rather die than betray Harry."

"But there are worse things than death, you know that Granger." His voice was sounding more and more steady as he continued.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "I am aware. But I will suffer through all of that before I give you anything that could help Voldemort."

"What did Voldemort do when he tortured you?"

Hermione was not sure why he asked this, but explained, "His usual, Cruciatus, tried to read my mind, tried veritaserum, but I've been training to resist that and his mind reading. Then he hit me, burned me, you know, usual methods of inflicting pain."

"Hmm. Well, Granger, if you would prefer to avoid all of those situations again, perhaps we can strike a deal where you tell me the information and I won't have to touch you at all."

"Absolutely not. I do not make deals with Death Eaters. You'd never be true to your word. And like I said, I'd go through any pain before betraying the Order," she said adamantly.

Hermione thought he looked increasingly frustrated, and not even sure of what to say. He stood up and thrust the chair behind him. "I will give you time to think over my offer. Be aware, no one else would be so kind."

Hermione was about to respond but he was out of the room in an instant.

Hermione was so perplexed as to why he didn't just begin torturing her as was expected. She of course felt relieved, but this was odd behavior, and she was certain it was not what he was supposed to be doing either. And from his behavior she couldn't tell if she could make him snap into torturing her if she just pushed too much, or if he was trying to work through some internal struggle to find some other way around torturing her.

She just continued to lay on her bed, still tired from the onslaught she received from Voldemort the day before, but also lethargic from having nothing at all to do. It would only be a matter of time before utter boredom began setting in and she started to lose her mind through being separated from the entire world. She would have to remain sharp, always prepare and be prepared for a way out. And always keep track of what Malfoy said to her. Anything could be a lead and her job would be to deconstruct it every way she could.

* * *

><p>Hermione did not see Malfoy the following day, or the day after. She saw no one but the house elf who brought her two measly meals, and she sat in complete silence with nothing to do, nothing to entertain her but her continued pondering over Malfoy's behavior, which still made no sense. She tried to sleep away the time, but eventually couldn't. She tried to find ways to entertain herself, but the walls were bare, there was no window, there was nothing in the room to look at or think about. This was a form of torture in and of itself.<p>

All she could think of was what went wrong to get her to this position. She saw Ginny trying to fight of Bellatrix and ran to help her. She knew Ron and Harry were trying to get away, because that's what everyone wanted and what they did need. She had been looking for them, and heard one of them call her name, but she went in the other direction, towards Ginny. They put up a decent fight, but when the death eaters started getting the idea they weren't going to get who they wanted, Bellatrix stopped fighting and lunged. Hermione tried to fight her off, but was knocked unconscious. The next thing she knows, she's in a dark, cold office with Voldemort standing over her.

Where were Harry and Ron now? Were they safe? She could at least be certain they had not been captured. Or they'd be right here with her. That was one positive. But would they know where she is? She rather hoped not because it would be foolish of them to try breaking her out of Malfoy Manor. She knew it wasn't just the Malfoy's who were here now, not when everyone was preparing for full on war. She hoped Ginny got to safety too. She didn't know if everyone even survived the onslaught. That perfect wedding day, ruined by this horrible people. Hermione wanted to sleep more than ever now just to get the idea of her friends out of her mind. She missed them, wanted to hear their voices. To hear one of Ron's stupid jokes.

She must have fallen asleep, because she was startled awake, when the door opened. She was almost relieved when someone barked at her to get up and follow him to the showers. _It must be morning now_, she thought. She sat up and looked to the door before getting up.

Her escort was Vincent Crabbe. She groaned inwardly, not sure if he or Malfoy was actually worse. At least Malfoy had a brain. She walked over towards him, expecting that he would turn around and walk out the door the next second, the way Theodore Nott had the first day. But instead she found her wrist locked in his grasp and he forced her against the wall. He kept her at arm's length for a moment, looking her over.

"No new bruises?" he said. "Is Draco even doing his job? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I helped him out, made his work a little more visible."

Hermione made to protests, but as she opened her mouth, the back of his and made contact as he slapped her across the mouth. He grabbed her again by her arm, even rougher than before and she knew his hand would leave bruises. She kicked him in the stomach with force, hoping it would be enough to release his grip. Instead, his eyes sparked with fury and his grip tightened. In the next instant, she was thrown onto the floor and she felt her head smack off the wood and the skin split. She tried to prepare herself for the next onslaught, to fight back, but as she lifted her head, she was dizzy.

She tried to see straight above her, but everything blurred. All she could tell was that everything was suddenly darker as a shadow came across her line of vision.

"You'll pay for that, mudblood!"

But before another strike could be taken, she suddenly heard Malfoy's voice.

"Hey, Crabbe! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Crabbe was thrown against the wall, Hermione tried again to sit up. She couldn't move much further, but was able to see Crabbe against the wall with Malfoy's hand around his throat. Crabbe was larger than Malfoy, but it was a largeness that counted for little, as most of it was dead weight. Malfoy was evidently stronger than he looked.

"You think you know better than me how to do my job?" Malfoy sneered. "If that were the case, maybe if you had any brains at all, the Dark Lord would've asked you, not me, isn't that right?"

"I'm sorry," Crabbe gasped as he tried to breathe and explain himself against Malfoy's grip at the same time. "I didn't think you'd mind. I was just roughing her up some more for you."

"I have a plan for her, which no one can interfere with or be privy to aside from the Dark Lord. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Crabbe gasped again.

"If I catch you or anyone else down here without my orders or orders from the Dark Lord, you will pay for it. Am I clear?"

"Yes," Crabbe said. Malfoy must've let go of him because he then scurried out of the room.

She then saw Malfoy's face just above hers. "Come on, Granger, I'll get you cleaned up," she heard him say as he lifted her from the floor. Her eyes fell closed, as it became too much of a strain to keep them open. She was beginning to feel oddly loopy.

He carried her down the hall and into the shower room, which was dark and cold.

She smelled the expensive cologne he wore and inhaled deeply. Compared with the dank, musty smell of the cold dungeon showers, he smelled heavenly.

"Granger? Granger!"

"Hmm?" she replied half-heartedly as she tried to open her eyes. Her head spun as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and she shut her eyes again, falling against the wall weakly.

"Christ, he hit your head hard," she heard him say before he called a name she couldn't quite make out.

After hearing a popping sound, she again heard the man speaking, "Prinky, wash her thoroughly and take as long as necessary. I'll be back shortly with a draught for her. If anyone, and I mean anyone comes down here, you come and get me immediately."

"Yes, sir," a small, high pitched voice replied.

"Come, miss. Prinky will clean you up," Hermione heard from right by her ear and she then felt a stream of warm water falling over her head as she fell out of consciousness.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she woke up back in her bed with her head being tilted up, and a vial before her lips. She started awake, pushing away from the vial in front of her, not trusting it was anything she should be drinking. Even in her diminished state, her guard was up and she needed to do anything to survive.

Malfoy was looking at her in complete shock, clearly not expecting she'd have so much energy.

"Granger, relax. It's to help your wounds heal. And help with the dizziness."

She let the tension out of her body a bit and grabbed the vial he was holding in front of her. She looked at the potion inside and recognized the distinct color and smell of a typical, but powerful pain relieving draught. She drank it down quickly and handed the vial back to Malfoy.

"How long have I been out?" she asked, trying to sit up a little bit on the bed.

She was a little bit unsteady, as the draught would take a little bit to kick in, so Malfoy grabbed a hold of her around her shoulders and helped her to a more seated position. She found his behavior perplexing as he adjusted the pillow behind her so the position would be more comfortable.

"Only an hour," he replied when she was in place.

Hermione nodded. Her head was still spinning so she shut her eyes.

"The potion will take a few minutes or so to really make a difference."

Hermione nodded again.

Malfoy didn't say anything to her, just got up from his seat and grabbed something that had been sitting by the door and placed it on a small stand by her bed.

"I've brought some food when you're feeling up to eating too," he said.

She opened her eyes and looked at the food and then at him skeptically. "What are you doing, Malfoy? Why don't you just do what you really intend to do for information and be done with it?"

"Is that the thanks I get for healing you?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh don't give me that shit, Malfoy. You're only mad because someone touched your toy." She'd heard what he said to Crabbe when he pulled the disgusting lout off her. He didn't care about her well-being, he cared about his plan to torture her not being ruined by someone else.

"Doesn't change the fact I healed you."

"No, but the _why_ is important! Christ, Malfoy, if your plan was to help me so you could hurt me more in the long run, there's nothing noble about that."

"Always miss high and mighty Granger," Malfoy sneered. "Honestly, your friends must be relieved by your absence. I imagine all you do is nag them day and night."

"Not my fault you don't know what genuine kindness is."

"You could at least be thankful, and perhaps even repay me with some kind of information."

"That's not happening, Malfoy. Try another tactic." So there was another way of looking at his actions. The healing, the extra food - which was a more than generous portion of a fruit, eggs, toast, and yogurt.

"It's fine. I'll be down here all day. I've got time to wait," he said, now putting on a false chipper tone.

He then modified the chair into a plush, comfortable looking couch that Hermione eyed enviously from her rickety bed.

"Oh, I almost forgot," he said and with a flick of his wand, Hermione's hands were in chains on opposite sides of the bed.

"Let me out of these!" she shouted at him.

"Sorry, can't do that," he said nonchalantly. "Now, I'm going to relax here, and maybe you'll decide to tell me something."

Hermione sat in silence, trying not to betray her bewilderment visually as he pulled a book out of his pocket and enlarged it to its normal size. The guy had come in here to sit in front of her and read? She certainly wouldn't complain, but this was not what she expected when she'd been told she'd be tortured. Unless he was up to something new and more sinister.

After a few minutes of silence, Malfoy looked up from his book. "So what's Potter been up to lately?"

Hermione looked at him like he was insane. When she didn't answer he continued, "Well you said I should get on with my questioning, so that's what I'll do."

Hermione wanted to throttle him. "Well, I couldn't possibly know that, could I? Seeing as I'm stuck in here."

Malfoy smirked. "But you know what his overall plans are. His goals, his aspirations, his dreams."

Hermione again could hardly believe her ears. His tone was playful, as though he were mocking his own position as interrogator. She didn't say anything, just looked at him dumbfounded. He looked at her for a few moments longer before changing the subject.

"Nothing? Well then, have you ever read this, Granger? It's by Henry Wilkhelm - Two Lives of Munhall Manor?"

"No, I haven't," Hermione replied definitively.

"Oh, not as up on wizard literature as you are muggle literature?"

"Actually, I have read many of his other works, including his essays on the proper place of muggles and wizards in relation to each other and I do not care for his ideas. Even his literature, which some consider very progressive is in fact just subtly asserting muggle inferiority and perpetual ignorance," Hermione explained. "Didn't care to read yet another example of that by the same man."

"That's a good assessment of his works, Granger. I was thinking you'd only read muggle literature. But you don't miss anything do you?" He was talking to her in the strangest tone. Condescending, but not bullying. She wondered if he knew exactly what he was really trying to do. Or if he simply didn't know how to carry on a normal conversation with another human being.

"I've been rereading many of the texts I was given by my father at a young age. It's a lot of literature like this. We can use muggles in many ways that benefit us, we can even associate with them, but only for money purposes. But things have become more extreme lately, haven't they?"

"Yes...they certainly have."

"At least before, there were benefits to be had from muggles doing well."

"So you aren't concerned with muggles because they deserve equity, but because if they do well, you do better?"

"I'm not saying that."

"It sounds like it."

"I'm just thinking out loud here. Not expressing any personal opinions."

"Right..." Hermione was thoroughly confused. "So why are you rereading these?"

"I've just been thinking lately about how muggles and mudbloods fit into the Dark Lord's plans."

"Well, he hates us, irrationally, as he's a half-blood himself. You do know that, don't you?" Hermione pointed out.

"Of course I do," Draco retorted as though it was an insulting question. "He's angry that his muggle father abandoned his mother."

"After she tricked him into being with her through magic," Hermione pointed out. "Hardly a saint he left behind when he discovered the truth."

"But I think it's really not even important to him. Not as much anyways as pure power. He can have pure power over muggles, because they could never think of some way to combat his power."

"But he'd never share power, you have to know that."

"Being close to it is enough for some people."

"Is that enough for you?" Hermione asked.

Draco smirked but didn't answer. "I'll ask the questions here, Granger. What do you think he wants to do with you all, with your types once he's killed Potter?"

"Use us as slaves most likely. Use us for rituals or who knows what so he can harness even more dark power."

"It does seem that way...although I can never imagine what we'd need slaves for. We've already got house elves."

"Another colossal injustice," Hermione pointed out drily.

"Oh it's not so bad. They don't even care." Hermione was about to object, but he cut her off, continuing on. "Here's the thing. I don't know what his exact plans are for people like you or for people like myself. I hate not knowing."

"So why do you continue on?" She asked, shocked he was saying anything even along the lines of a question with regards to Voldemort's authority.

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Family."

That was no what she expected to hear. "Oh, but that's right," he continued as he clearly had read the look on her face. "We're all just unfeeling monsters over here aren't we? Not a concern in the world except killing mudbloods and muggles for fun, right?"

Hermione shrugged. She didn't feel guilty, as she'd never seen one of them exhibit any ounce of concern for someone else.

Malfoy now looked irritated and uninterested in continuing their conversation. "Well it looks like you don't know everything, Granger. Make sure you get some rest so your head can heal. I'll be back tomorrow," he said and left promptly without waiting for a response.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next day, Malfoy swept into the room in the morning without so much as a knock and said, "So, have you reconsidered my offer?" He sounded irritatingly happy.

Hermione had been walking around the room, as she couldn't take sitting in her bed any longer. "To make a deal and give you information?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Ah, well, once again, I'll be down here for awhile." Hermione couldn't tell whether his tone was genuine or if it was an air put on as part of some scheme of his.

"That's what you said last time. But then you left when I got too irritating," Hermione replied, sitting in her usual position on the bed.

"Yes, but that's all done now and I've got good news."

"I'm being released?" Hermione said, mocking upbeat his tone.

"Ha. Good one. Actually, I informed the Dark Lord about that moron Crabbe attacking you without authorization, rendering you incapacitated and incapable of manipulating for information and he was punished thoroughly."

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised that any action was taken against her attacker.

"I might have exaggerated for dramatic effect," he said, clearly thinking this was a genius move on his part. "So, he told everyone else that I am the only one permitted to touch you or have any say in the torture techniques. And no one defies his orders."

"Oh," Hermione said again.

"Well, I was expecting a bit more of a response than that."

"I thought you and Crabbe were friends," Hermione replied, avoiding making any kind of concrete response on the matter. His mood swings were disconcerting. He appeared to go from irritated to perfectly content and at ease in the blink of an eye.

Malfoy took it in stride. "Granger, come on now. How could someone with even half a brain be friends with Crabbe or Goyle. They're clearly nothing more than lackeys."

"Do you even have friends?"

Malfoy scowled. Hermione was just waiting for him to be irritated to the point of leaving again. "Of course I have. Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini. They're decent to be around and actually capable of carrying on a conversation."

"I didn't know Zabini was heavily involved with the Death Eaters."

"Oh, he's not. I don't see him much anymore. Not since the Dark Lord has been using the Manor for more and more of his operations."

Hermione nodded. She wanted to know why he was being so pleasant. Answering so many of her questions.

"How's your head?"

At that she just couldn't keep it in anymore. "Malfoy, what on earth are you doing? Is this some other tactic of yours? Be perfectly pleasant and chummy with me so I might spill some information because I'm just so grateful you haven't done anything else?"

Malfoy's face contorted. She couldn't tell if he wanted to scowl again or smirk. He leaned forward on the chair, putting his elbows on his thighs, letting his clasped hands fall between his knees. "Granger, I can only be so patient. But if you want to push me there -"

His words were interrupted when he heard his aunt's shrill voice coming down the hall.

"Yes, I would love to show my dear nephew ways to take advantage of the mudblood, my Lord."

Malfoy's eyes grew wide, and before Hermione could plead with him, he had his wand out. Her body was flung into the shackles on the opposite wall. Her hands spread above her head, her feet barely touching the floor so there was a deep strain on her hands.

The door opened not a moment later, and Bellatrix and Voldemort stood before them.

"Ah, I see you've already started, Draco," Bellatrix said with pleasure. "Please do share what you were going to do with us."

"Actually, aunt, I overheard you in the hallway, and I'm certain there's nothing I could do that would come close to the mastery you could exhibit. In fact, I'd been wanting to ask you for some pointers."

"How perfect," Voldemort said. "Go on, Bellatrix. It's exactly what you came here to do."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. Until now she'd been able to avoid this insane woman, who in many ways could be more terrifying than Voldemort himself, as she seemed exponentially more mentally unstable. There was no predicting what she would do.

"Now watch carefully, Draco," she said with a devious smile as she raised her wand.

The manacles began to move apart, and Hermione screamed as her arms were pulled near out of her sockets. "Now that's far more uncomfortable, you see."

She then made a series of slashing movements with her wand and Hermione felt her skin being sliced open on her legs and arms, not deep enough to bleed. No, this was not like the spell Harry had used on Malfoy. It was even worse, because you would not bleed out and eventually feel no pain, but the cuts opened and closed over and over again, each time with more pain than the last.

"Want to share anything yet?" Bellatrix cooed.

Hermione shut her eyes against the pain and against the horrific faces in front of her.

"Ah, ah, now, open your eyes."

Against her wishes, her eyes were thrust open wide, she couldn't even blink and her eyes began to water and feel painfully uncomfortable. She looked at Malfoy with hatred. He had fed her to this monster when he knew he wouldn't have been capable of anything nearly as cruel. He didn't even look at her eyes. Just watched stoically as her body writhed in pain.

Bellatrix then moved closer to her and pressed the tip of her wand into her neck, where her skin was sensitive. Her wand felt like a branding iron, and Hermione tried to jerk back from the heat, but couldn't and screamed again as her skin was seared.

"Bellatrix, come away now. I tried these all last time. But I fear she doesn't respond to physical pain. Let me try something new."

Bellatrix looked a little disappointed at having her fun put to an end, but was also excited to see what new technique she could learn from her master.

Voldemort now stood before Hermione, and she had no choice but to look into those snake-like eyes. "Let's see how you stand against this," he said.

Suddenly everything was dark. Completely dark and cold. _Where am I? _Hermione wondered to herself. She shivered and listened for sound nearby but couldn't hear anything. _This is odd. But I could've sworn...I was just...but where was I? If I'm here, then where was I before and where is this now? Wasn't I in the middle of something? _Suddenly she heard a noise, as though it came from behind her. But she couldn't move. _Hello? _she tried to say. But she couldn't speak. She couldn't do anything and she was beginning to feel this rising tension in her body. _I'm stuck here but I'm missing something, what is it that I'm missing. I need to find it! My life depends on it, it's why I'm stuck here, but how can I move. _The urgency in her body rose with every second. She felt anxious, she felt stuck, and scared. The sensation intensified, until she felt herself coming to tears, crying, whimpering at the feeling of being completely abandoned and uncertain of everything.

When she reached this point, she heard a voice, "_Tell me what I want and all of this will end. I know how to end it for you."_

_"What do you want to know?" she said back, frantically._

_"What can you tell me about Harry Potter?"_

Alarms went off in her head. _Bad idea _she thought. She didn't know why, something told her it was a bad idea. _But would it be worse than this? _Another voice asked her. _Suppose just one thing...one thing couldn't hurt. This hurts. _She debated in her mind, but the voice telling her it was a bad idea came to the forefront, until heard her own voice shouting to drown out the other telling her it would be okay to tell just one piece of information. Her voice rose with emphasis -_No! NO! _she shouted in her mind and suddenly she regained consciousness.

She felt the tears streaming down her face, that weren't at all only in her head, and she was breathing heavily. In front of her Voldemort looked angry that his plan didn't work and Bellatrix looked like she'd been enjoying the spectacle in front of her all too much, even if it didn't turn out any information. Behind them, Draco stood betraying no emotion, except that his hands were curled into fists. He was angry at something, perhaps something had happened while she was stuck inside her mind, something she couldn't hear or see.

"Hmm...almost," Voldemort hissed. He turned abruptly and Bellatrix followed his lead, leaving Hermione in her hanging position. "Come with us into the hall, Draco," he said. Draco followed them out without a glance in Hermione's direction.

Hermione wondered how long she would be left to hang here, her shoulders and wrists now burning from the strain. It was close, she'd come far too close to sharing information. Whatever kind of spell he was using, Hermione couldn't tell. She had never heard of it or encountered it before, but it was one that could break someone easily. Even with all the time she'd spent training herself for attempts at mental break-ins, it was a close call. She felt terrible, and fearful of another onslaught. Perhaps it would be easier next time, because she'd know what to expect. Or it could become more intense with time. She had no idea, but felt more fearful than she had yet that Voldemort would get something out of her.

Only a couple minutes had passed before Draco walked back into the room. He now wore his fury openly on his face. He immediately relinquished the hold of the chains on her wrists and using magic, levitated her to her bed. He called for his house elf who arrived with a pop.

"Prinky, bring me healing materials. Quickly," he ordered.

"Yes, master," she said and disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared.

Draco pulled the chair up to her bed and examined her wounds. "I was told to leave you like this. Maybe the wounds would become infected and then you'd talk in exchange for medicine."

Hermione's eyes grew in alarm.

"You're going against his orders?" Hermione said with shock.

"He's leaving with my aunt on some mission. So no, I'm not," Malfoy replied shortly.

Hermione wanted to catch his eyes, to get a better idea of what he was thinking, but he wouldn't make eye contact with her. Just examined the wounds left on her arms and two on her legs.

"I'm surprised the spell she used left these wounds open. Usually they just close up once the spell ends. She must have modified it. You're lucky you aren't bleeding more than you are now."

"Do you think regular healing potion will heal them?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded. "I have access to Severus' secret stocks. He has something that can cure any wound. Literally any wound."

Prinky arrived again with a bag full of materials. Draco conjured a table to lay them out on and then asked Hermione to sit up so he could heal her.

For the second time now, Malfoy was healing her after she'd been torn apart. She recognized this was not at all what he was supposed to be doing and felt thankful. It was difficult to sit up, so he helped her into a seated position. She tried to give him a smile, but she couldn't even move her neck without straining he damaged muscle and the wound she had on her upper shoulder and base of her neck. Some of those cuts Bellatrix had made were deeper than she thought, and the strain from hanging on the wall had made her muscles sore beyond belief. Malfoy stopped her from moving her head, placing his hand on the other side of her neck and holding her head steady. She resolved not to move again, but Malfoy couldn't know that and he left his hand there, as his other hand washed the wound with a healing potion. The pressure of his hand lessened, and every time his fingers gently moved or placed the slightest pressure on the nape of her neck she went through a series of chills and found herself relaxing. She'd forgotten it was a sensitive spot and had always found it so relaxing to be touched there. He didn't say anything as he worked, and her thoughts went back to the form of torture she'd just received. She sat, staring at the floor just beside him, her eyes hard, barely blinking. She wanted to keep those thoughts at bay, but couldn't. The sensation of being so alone, so alone and confused that she would almost betray her every instinct was too fresh and it horrified her. She felt her mood plummeting as she thought about it, and it took over every other thought in her mind.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when she suddenly heard Malfoy say, "Did you share anything with him? Through your mind I mean." Her eyes flew to his, as she'd almost forgotten about him there, although he was the one touching her, healing her. She'd become so caught up in her thoughts, it was as though nothing else was present.

"Granger, what did he do?" Malfoy asked.

"He performed a spell even I am unfamiliar with, I wouldn't be surprised if he created it, but I felt...I felt as though I'd lost my mind. Like I was lost and alone and cold, and I knew no one, had no one. I was searching frantically for something. I was in that state until I felt extremely vulnerable, then he said if I told him what he wanted that he'd give me what I wanted, he'd take the confusion away. And I almost gave in. I almost did. It scared me."

Given her outward appearance, he was surprised she didn't let up any information, but she was stronger than he thought. The question had triggered something in her, however, and he saw a silent stream of tears. Malfoy sat there, his hand now resting gently on her shoulder and suddenly she swayed, as though the pressure of the last hour finally took over. Her body fell away from his and he had to bolt out of his chair to grab her and pull her upright. He moved her gently to her bed, which was luckily only a few steps away from the chair she was seated in. Hermione felt beaten, utterly beaten, and without even thinking, because her brain was beyond that capability, her body fell forward and her face landed in Malfoy's chest. Silent tears poured from her eyes as her body shook, finally releasing the terror she'd felt in all the time Voldemort tortured her.

Malfoy stiffened at first, completely unsure of what to do, but after a moment, he placed one hand on her back and another on the back of her neck.

"Why do you remain so loyal to those two? Where do you find the courage?"

"It's not even about courage. It's just about be true to those who are true to you. And not just to me, but they are kind and generous towards all people. That's what counts."

"But what if someone just seems like that but turns out not to be?"

"You just have to take a chance sometimes. But most people are good overall. And while you can never really know anyone, the more you get to know someone, especially in certain types of situations, you know you can trust them. Harry, Ron, and I have almost died together too many times now for us to be concerned with that."

"Would you be as close to them without those experiences?"

"I don't know. We have the lot we've been given, or created by our own choices, and we've gone with it. Don't see the point in considering what might have been, because that's not what is."

"Sometimes I wonder..." Malfoy began, but then trailed off.

She finally really looked at him. "Wonder what?"

"What I'm really doing."

"I wonder what the hell you're doing too," Hermione replied.

She continued looking at him. His actions really were perplexing. Why go against his orders and heal her? Why hadn't he tortured her?

"I'll leave you now," Malfoy said, and stood up suddenly.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Will he be coming back down?" Hermione tried to keep the fear out of her voice. She hoped she didn't sound too desperate.

"Not for awhile. He and my aunt are leaving for three weeks. They're going to search for something he says he needs."

"Do you have any idea what that is?" She said, suddenly more alert.

Malfoy shook his head. "I don't. No one but my aunt is included in this concern of his."

Hermione laid back down on the bed fully, but he could tell she was still deep in thought. "Just relax, Granger. You need rest and there's nothing you can do about it now. If I get word he's coming back, I'll tell you immediately."

Hermione nodded and then turned to face the wall as he left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hermione only saw Malfoy briefly the next day. He came by to check in on how she was doing and asked Prinky to bring her anything she wanted from the kitchens. For the next few days after that though, Malfoy didn't come to see her at all. She figured she wouldn't be seeing much of him because Voldemort was out of the picture for a little bit, and he'd made it clear he wasn't keen on torturing her. She couldn't figure out what he was doing then. Why was he the one asked to torture her? And why would he keep that job if he wasn't going to do it?

She wondered if there was something going on between him and the Order, but she cast that idea out almost as soon as it came into her head. The idea was preposterous. Firstly, she'd have known, because now that Dumbledore was gone, literally everything that happened went through Harry. At least that's how it was until she was captured. And how would Malfoy have even made contact with the Order? Harry did say that Dumbledore offered Malfoy and his family some sort of safe haven if he turned against Voldemort. But it was too late for that now.

No, there was something else going on with him. Something that she just couldn't understand. It wasn't that he'd suddenly grown a moral compass, or he would've left, surely. It was also clear he didn't leave her alone out of any ounce of fondness. He still could hardly stand to be around her. After just a few minutes of his "interrogation" he'd left in annoyance. That was fine with her, although now after almost four full days of only seeing Prinky on occasion throughout the day, she was beginning to hope he'd come down even just to scoff at her. She wondered if it was just the impact of the spell, making her feel more vulnerable and alone. She was missing Ginny, Harry, and Ron more than ever. Especially when she thought of Ron and those five minutes she'd danced with him at the wedding.

Sometimes she felt completely aware of how silly it might seem to persist in liking Ron. He was incredibly insensitive and oftentimes took ages to grasp why something was really important or meaningful to her or someone else. He was clearly working through his own inferiority complex because he believes he has to do so much just to set himself apart from his siblings. But he was also kind deep down. He was loyal and could make her laugh like no one else. That's what she loved about the Weasley family in general. It was so different from her own, as she'd grown up as an only child. With the Weasley's there was so much life and noise around at all times.

When she thought of that whole family she felt even more lonely. She'd never felt this way before, and it was strange. She wanted some kind of distraction.

Almost as if on cue, Malfoy walked into her room.

"Granger," he said as a greeting as he appeared to be observing her condition from afar.

"Malfoy," she said back. He seemed calm today. Not in any kind of over-the-top, happy mood, nor disappointed about anything. He looked relaxed about coming to see her for the first time ever. She wondered if it had anything to do with Voldemort's absence.

"Prinky tells me you've healed and are back to normal," he said as he pulled the chair towards the lower corner of her bed.

Hermione nodded. "Fine for the most part."

"Something is bothering you?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"Well, maybe, just maybe the fact I'm locked up in here," she pointed out.

"Well, maybe, you better get used to that," Malfoy retorted taking on her same mocking tone.

"Can't you tell me anything about what's happening in the world," Hermione nearly begged. "I haven't even a clue of what the weather's like outside. Even that would be nice," she said as she gestured to the thick stone walls surrounding her.

Malfoy shook his head and almost seemed to smile. "You know I'm not going to tell you anything. Why would I when you won't tell me anything?"

"Why do you even want to know? You don't seem to care about following Voldemort's orders."

Malfoy was immediately more serious. "Do not mistake me, I need information out of you, and I will get it."

Hermione looked at him like she didn't believe he was capable of it. It was futile to continue telling him the same thing over and over - that she wouldn't tell him anything.

"So, where did you grow up?" he asked, settling into his chair.

Hermione glowered at him. Just like him to change the subject and act as though her situation under lockdown in this room was normal.

"C'mon Granger, nothing wrong with a friendly conversation. I'm sure you're bored down here," Malfoy persisted.

"Not that bored," Hermione lied. She had just been hoping for any kind of distraction, but now that it was here in the form of Malfoy, she regretted the thoughts. "Besides, I wouldn't tell you anything of my personal childhood so you can try to track down my family. How stupid do you think I am?"

Malfoy smirked. "I certainly know better than that. So then, what was life like before you knew you were a witch? Was it hard?"

Hermione laughed. "You've no sense of what muggles are like, have you? I'd say life has become more difficult in many ways _since _learning what I am. Considering being dragged into a war and dealing with this absurd prejudice. Still I wouldn't trade it. It's who I am. But life really isn't some grim and terrifying struggle for muggles every day. I don't know where you've picked up that idea."

"Well you can't do magic to do simple things to make life easier."

"So we've got cars to get around faster. And planes. Still nothing compared to aparation but we're working on faster travel all the time. We have ways of preventing and curing illnesses just as you have. Takes us longer to get there, but muggles are clearly thriving," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes," Malfoy said with a bit of a grimace.

"Does that really disgust you?"

"Do you think if they knew of our existence that they'd want our power? Or try to get rid of us?" Malfoy asked, avoiding her question.

"So it's fear of what you don't know that makes you hate muggles?" Hermione replied, reading deeper into his question.

"I didn't say that," Malfoy said tersely.

"You don't have to. You seem to dislike them because they are different from yourself and you assume that like you, they will hate you just for being different from them. You're afraid they would try to ban or steal your power, so you degrade them and assume they are inferior."

"You must think you're so bloody brilliant," Malfoy snarled at her.

"No, you're just transparent. You and everyone else who's driven by such blind hatred," she replied calmly.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, bringing his anger under control. Hermione took on a smirk of her own at seeing that she could have some power over his reactions even in her utterly powerless state as a prisoner. She pushed it further.

"Why do you keep coming down here when you don't even try to get information?" she demanded, thinking she would keep him on his toes with questions of her own. She'd figure out what he's up to one way or another.

"Granger, what do you think I'm asking you questions for? Not because I want to get to know you."

Hermione was perplexed, but then it started to dawn on her. He's just trying to loosen her up, get her talking so maybe something about Harry will come up. Something will slip out and she won't even realize because they are just having a friendly conversation.

He smirked at her as the realization showed on her face. He left without another word and she was enraged. Clearly her desire to see Malfoy this morning came only from lingering effects of that spell, because now she wanted nothing to do with him and dreaded when she'd see him next. But she also didn't think of Ron once for the rest of the day or night. Instead she was torn between irritation over Malfoy's antics and further confusion over what his present state of mind was regarding her, Voldemort, and his status as a Death Eater.

"You know that as soon as you reach any territory regarding Harry I won't answer a single question," she responded.

He shrugged. "We'll see about that. But anyways, when you were growing up as a muggle, what kind of stuff do they even teach you in school?" he asked changing the subject as though he didn't have a care in the world whether she eventually gave in or not.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. He really was just going to bombard her with all kinds of questions indefinitely apparently. "Well, you learn reading, maths, writing, science, history," she said, deciding she may as well humor him with answers to the harmless questions.

"Science?" he queried.

"Well science is how muggles explain how the world works. Actually how the whole universe works - from laws that govern motion to how we evolved from the tiniest bacteria."

"What?" he said, truly perplexed.

Hermione shook her head, not willing to get into the idea right now. "Well, actually I wouldn't have learned that until a little later in school anyways. But that's part of what science explains. Just how the world works. In fact," she said, now getting off on a tangent as she had a tendency to do when an idea she was fascinated by took hold, "I have always wished some muggle scientists could know more about magic. Not to do experiments on us, but to understand how magic fits into the world. Because everything we do defies these laws of nature."

"You're talking like you're on another planet, Granger," Malfoy said.

"Well, in some ways, it's like muggles and wizards really do live in completely different worlds and might as well be on another planet."

"Certainly would make the world easier," Draco pointed out.

"Sure, easy, but that wouldn't make it better. There's nothing wrong with diversity, Malfoy."

Malfoy was silent and seemed to be working through something in his head, debating what he should say.

"You disagree?" she said, thinking she knew what must be in his mind.

"Again, I didn't say that. You love putting words in my mouth."

"Then why don't you say what you're actually thinking?" she said.

He leaned forward in his chair and smirked at her. "Because I'm not here to open up to you. You're the one who's supposed to be answering the questions. Don't think I'm not aware of what you're doing every time you turn the questions around on me," he said.

"I have no idea what you mean," Hermione replied tersely. Damn him.

"You put up a spirited attempt to remain in control even when you have none, Granger. It's almost admirable. But you're in no place to be asking questions and I don't have to answer them."

She clenched her jaw and glared at him. She hated the smug prick. Bloody bastard was more clever than she thought.

"Why don't we take a break from questions for now. How about a game of chess?" he said as he conjured a table and a beautiful marble chess board.

"You're want to play chess with me?" Hermione said as though he'd gone completely insane.

"I have to be down here for a few hours and we may as well do something to entertain ourselves," he explained.

"Why aren't you just torturing me like you're supposed to?"

Malfoy smirked. "Would you like me to?"

"No, but -"

"So then don't even worry about why I'm not torturing you. You've already said, and I fully agree, that it wouldn't get you to share anything anyways. So we'll do whatever I feel like when I come down here instead," he retorted, cutting her off.

"But -"

"Granger!" he shouted, the first time he'd really raised his voice in her presence and it startled her into silence. "Stop asking questions and play the fucking game. You're first," he ordered her.

Hermione looked at him like he was insane but then huffed and looked down at the board. The pieces awaited her first order. She felt her competitive side taking over. It would feel good to beat Malfoy at this game. Another thing she could best him in.

She made her first move and waited in silence for him to make his move. When he did, fairly quickly, she realized that he was well practiced at this game and felt fairly certain he would beat her.

"Did you ever think that maybe I'm doing this for me, and not for you?" he said suddenly, after she'd taken a few minutes to contemplate her next move.

"What do you mean?" she asked after she moved her rook. Smirking, he moved his knight after only a minute of deliberation.

"Well, let's say by some miracle you get out of here. Why would I want you to leave here thinking I'm not a complete monster?" he asked.

"So I say you weren't horrible to me. You'd want all charges dropped for associating with Death Eaters and getting Dumbledore killed," she said.

"Exactly. See, I'm as self serving as ever," he said, as he flashed her a false smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him as he moved his bishop and it became clear that unless she discovered some ingenious tactical move, she'd be losing very quickly.

"It wouldn't be that easy to have all charges dropped when we win," she told him.

"You're so confident your side will win," he said. "What would it take to have charges dropped?"

"If someone showed they could actually change their ways, that they didn't believe in their hateful ideals we'd welcome them with open arms," Hermione said. "Granted, there would be tension, but we wouldn't carry on persecuting people who showed they changed."

"Right, but people of course can't change," he muttered, almost more to himself. "Or you couldn't prove it anyways."

"Of course, people can change," she said seriously.

"Don't patronize me, Granger," he said darkly, glaring at her.

Hermione shook her head in earnest. "I'm not. Not in the least. We learn from every single thing that happens from us. If we try to that is. I think some people have experiences so pivotal in their lives that they end up changing as a result."

He lowered his eyes, not giving her any response after that. She thought he was deep in thought about what she said until she watched his eyes light up as he scanned the board.

"Looks like I've won," he said triumphantly as he made his final move. She realized where he had her. She would have move her knight and then he was free to claim check mate.

She didn't know how she could've missed it. Perhaps because she'd been so distracted by their conversation. She wondered why he'd be planning for after the war under the circumstance of his side losing. More and more, she thought his commitment to Voldemort was failing.

"Well, Granger, it's been lovely. I'm going to leave you now to wallow in being a prisoner and a loser in chess. I really expected better of you," he said as he waved his wand to clear away the table and chair he'd been using.

She was about to respond, but he cut her off.

"Don't even try defending yourself," he said dismissively. "I'll be back down tomorrow." And without waiting for her response, he left the room.

She wondered after he left if he really meant what he said, about not torturing her for his own purposes. But then what about his immediate needs to get information so Voldemort wouldn't kill him? She couldn't understand what his real motives were. The more she thought about them, the more puzzling Malfoy became in her mind.

By the time she went to sleep, she found that a part of her eager awaited when Malfoy would return the next day so she could get one step closer to figuring out exactly what he was up to.

* * *

><p>And so, the weeks carried in this way. Malfoy would come in for a few hours each day and they would play wizards chess or discuss some piece of literature. Rarely did they ever agree, and when they did, the atmosphere in the room became more tense than it was when they disagreed. Each of them were forced, in those moments, to view each other as equals, as another human with dignity. Hermione could see the sparks of compassion in Malfoy's eyes in those moments. A subtle kindness lurking under the surface that only grew in her eyes after his continued persistence in treating her kindly. He kept her well fed, had never touched her, and never even threatened her with violence.<p>

She began to wonder how long things could carry on this way thought. Things couldn't last forever like this - some change would have to be made when Voldemort returned and he still hadn't gained any information from her. Or someone would surely notice she wasn't being tortured, but instead was being kept perfectly healthy and sane.

His motives were still unclear to her and this is what she found herself pondering more and more in her nights alone. Was he really still fighting for Voldemort? More and more she started catching things he said and would turn them over in her mind because they hinted at his lack of belief in the cause he fought for. Or was it all some coldly calculated scheme of his? Did he really think that by just being nice to her that she would open up to him? He was clearly too smart to believe that, so what was his real angle? The more she thought about it the more her mind twisted into horribly gnarled pretzel of thoughts that she couldn't make a lick of sense of. And every night she fell asleep in that way - torturing her mind to the state of confusion before finally passing out from exhaustion.

Her only solace was that things couldn't carry on this way forever. Sooner or later, she'd find out what he was really up to. For better or worse.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hermione hadn't seen Malfoy in two full days and she was beginning to panic. She knew that around this time Voldemort was due to return. While Malfoy didn't say anything to her, he'd grown slightly more agitated as of late. He didn't push her for information, but he was more distracted when they talked and she could only assume it was because his deadline for getting information out of her was fast approaching. Now, she feared that it was too late. Maybe she should've given him something just to keep him alive. If he was dead, there was no telling who'd be coming for her next. Or if she'd even last to see many more days herself. Sitting cooped up in tiny room with no idea of what was happening did nothing for her state of mind. Without any books or entertainment, she found herself going just as stir crazy as she felt before Malfoy started spending a few hours every day with her. By the third morning, she was pleading into the empty air that he would show up this day.

When he finally showed up late that morning, she nearly breathed an audible sigh of relief as he walked through the door. She checked herself as she realized this wasn't only because of the intense boredom she felt in his absence, but also because she'd found herself growing increasingly concerned that something had happened to him. The bastard was making her care about him as a person and that couldn't be allowed to continue. Perhaps that was his plan - trick her into thinking he could be trusted like some kind of friend.

But to her disappointment, the concern she wanted to squelch rose again, and this time with greater force.

As he entered, he slammed the door shut behind him with a bang and cast a long series of concealment charms in a fury. She hadn't seen his face, as he immediately turned away from her when he entered, but could tell from the tenseness of his shoulders under his white dress shirt that something was wrong. When he finished the charms, he turned around slowly. She thought his wand would break in half in the vice grip he held it in.

"Malfoy...what's going on?" she said tentatively.

He clenched his jaw and didn't look at her straight away. Still, he continued standing there just within the doorway.

Hermione sat up squarely on the bed, realizing that she needed to be ready to defend herself, as futile as it may be. Something was off.

Finally he looked at her and squared his broad shoulders. While she'd known Malfoy since they were children and he'd always come across as someone less than intimidating despite his better attempts, now she saw what he'd really grown into.

Tall and powerfully built - as the weight he'd lost in sixth year had been fully restored and even increased. The look on his face was murderous and his narrowed eyes held utter contempt - a look she'd never seen, even in all their years at school. This was different. He looked deadly.

"It's been three weeks. I've tried being patient, you know full well I am not interested in torture, but now I need information," he said menacingly. So here it was - the moment she knew would come.

"Well I won't give you any!" she shouted, refusing to give into his intimidation. Sure, he could crush her even without a wand at this point, but she would not give away anything to betray Harry and Ron.

His eyes flared as his rage intensified and he took a swift step closer to her bed. "You realize what I could've been doing to you all this time, don't you? And you give me nothing in return!"

"You aren't doing me any favors keeping me prisoner! Was that your tactic all along? Play nice because you know I won't give into terror?"

"I'll show you just how good you've had it!" he shouted at her.

Before Hermione could comprehend what was happening, she Hermione felt her arms chained to the wall behind her bed and was pinned beneath Malfoy's weight. He sat straddling her legs so she couldn't move.

"You realize what can happen here, don't you Granger!" His hands gripped her head hard and he forced her to look at him. Her breathing came in fast, angry spurts, but so did his. His eyes bored into her own, pleading with him to cooperate. "I don't need to call for the Dark Lord to torture you! I can make your life..." he began, but felt his voice failing him. She watched his eyes grow softer and then sadder before his shoulders completely slumped and she could feel all the tension leave his body. He looked completely lost as he looked down at her and as uncomfortable as Hermione was, she couldn't look away from him.

His hands loosened their grip, but he didn't let go. Rather, he cupped her face, and looked at her as though in a trance. His thumbs traced her cheek bones and brushed just beneath her eyes.

Suddenly, he flew to his feet and Hermione's hands were released.

"I can't...I'm sorry for...I really can't," he said softly, borderline mumbling, and he turned on his heel and left.

Hermione's heart was hammering. _What in the hell just happened? _

She had gone without being touched by Malfoy except to be healed, and all of a sudden the urgency of finding out information was upon him like never before. She wondered if something was riding on getting information. If so, she was less inclined than ever to share. But he couldn't even follow through with it. Why?

He suddenly opened the door again and entered. Remaining near the door, which was shut firmly behind him and carefully locked, he said, "I need you to understand...I really am...sorry...the only reason I tried is..." and the words failed him. He paced for a few moments, and Hermione watched him like a hawk. She had never seen anything like this from him. The last few minutes, because that's truly all that could have passed, were the strangest in all of her life.

"The Dark Lord is losing patience. My life is resting on getting information from you. Mine and my family's. It has been almost a month with no information and he isn't going to wait much longer to kill me." As he finished his statement, he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

"And I suppose I should care because the next person they get in here to torture me could, well, actually torture me?" Hermione asked dryly.

"Precisely."

Hermione gave him a long hard look. The last few minutes had been eye opening into Malfoy's character. Since he'd kept much of the questioning on her, she hadn't been able to read much into what he was really doing. She'd wondered before how committed he was to Voldemort, and now she was fairly certain he wasn't at all committed. Only enough not to get himself overly noticed or killed. But why? And what the hell was he doing then?

"Fine, I'll give you information."

"Convincing information?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. Not true, but convincing? She wondered what on earth this guy was really up to.

"Listen," he said when she hesitated. "I know you aren't going to give me real information, but it needs to be convincing enough, damn convincing. He wants locations, names, secret weapons, anything that can make him stronger and Potter weaker. So whatever you tell me must play to that."

Hermione nodded, and said, "Okay, I'll think of something then."

"But I need it now. Literally, I need it before tomorrow night or I'm a dead man," he said, and she could hear some of the agony he must've been trying to keep out of his voice. "I don't plan to leave here until I have information, and even then, we need to figure out how you'll deliver it to me, because he will read my thoughts. He won't want to think he's missed anything."

"So how's that supposed to work?"

Draco was pacing now. "I'm going to pretend to threaten you, make it look convincing, and you'll have to look terrified. I'll give you bruises and cuts, make you look like as much of a mess as you technically should after been locked up here for weeks. And you'll give me your information."

Hermione nodded. She didn't want to think of what they'd have to do to make it look convincing, but this was far better than any other alternative.

"I'll be back early tomorrow morning. Be ready," he demanded.

"I will be."

With a final nod, he briskly left her room and Hermione busied herself with plotting.

It wouldn't be true information she divulged, but at least it would buy everyone more time.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Malfoy returned to Hermione's chamber to plan the entire scenario that would unfold. It was planned down to each gesture they would give. Malfoy left her around midday to change into his death eater robes, which he figured he should be in while questioning her this time. And when he entered, he would be in character which left Hermione waiting in nervous anticipation for what she would see coming through that door.<p>

She couldn't tell how much time had passed before she heard the door swing open and then slam shut behind him.

"Well, Granger, looks like it's time for another round. What fun should we get up to today?" he said as he raised his wand. Before she could let out her sound of protest, she was flung against the wall with her arms spread. Tight cuffs wrapped around her wrists and attached them to the wall. At the same time, her mouth was bound and gagged - she couldn't even attempt to speak.

They'd agreed she would have to endure some amount of pain during this act in order for it to look truly convincing. He would have to perform spells that Voldemort could verify as he watched them being done through Malfoy's mind.

Hermione braced herself for the onslaught coming her way.

"Care to make this easy on both of us and just tell me what I need to know?" he asked, as he inched closer to her, removing his mask and throwing it onto her bed. She could see the hatred burning in his eyes and it came through so strong she found herself questioning whether or not this was really an act.

She shook her head adamantly - outright refusing to give him anything.

His response was to cast a curse that cause immense pain. She strained against the chains, trying to keep the tears that surfaced from falling. He released her quickly.

"Don't want to wear you out too much. I've got plans for you today," he said as he removed the gag from her mouth.

"I will _never _tell you anything," she replied fiercely.

Malfoy gave a dark chuckle and removed his long, black robe. "Always so spirited at the start," he said as he then began rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt as though he were preparing himself for a very demanding task. His movements were so self-assured and relaxed, she realized that if he wanted to be, he could actually manage to interrogate her and successfully give off the aura of power. "But we'll see if that changes like last time," he continued on.

At these words, as planned, she visibly blanched and started shaking her head.

"You...you're not going to..." she broke off and gulped, the tears starting to return.

"To what?" he said without an ounce of concern for her fear. He sounded pleasant as could be.

"Force me to..." she tried to get out the rest but her voice wobbled. She really hoped it would be convincing.

"Oh, you remembered that did you?" he said, chuckling darkly yet again. "Not surprised. Filthy slut. Bet you loved every minute of it. Although I dare say, you could really use some work on your technique."

"No...no, please...not again," she pleaded, willing the tears to roll down her cheeks unchecked.

"Then tell me what I want. You know what I need from you," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. He now stood right in front of her, raising his hand to her face. He didn't touch her, but trailed his wand from her temple to her jaw, then down her neck and to the top of her breasts.

He cocked his head and looked over her with such a cold, clinical gaze that she felt embarrassed. "Truly is a shame you're such a filthy little mudblood," he muttered.

Hermione tried to strain against the chains again, but to no avail. She let the tears fall faster.

He raised his wand from her breasts and placed it right under her jaw and pressed hard. An evil smirk formed on his mouth and his eyes mocked her in her vulnerable position. "You don't have anything to say?" he said, still in that falsely sweet voice.

Hermione willed herself to cry even harder.

"I think you want me to punish you Granger," he said in what came out as a deeply husky voice. Damn the man could act and Hermione found herself terrified despite the fact it was all an act.

"No!" she pleaded and shut her eyes tight.

His brought his hand against her neck, on the side opposite his wand and positioned it as though he was going to choke her. "You know I like it rough, Granger," he said, whispering in her hear. He even brought his body so close to hers they were touching and Hermione shuddered. "I may even like to choke you during this time. How about that, you mudblood slut?" he said, now grazing his lips against her ear.

Hermione forcefully shook her head and cried harder than ever before.

"Still nothing?" he said after a moments silence.

She then felt the pressure on her throat tighten and he made to undo his belt. That was her cue.

She gasped and flailed against him. "Okay...I'll...Malfoy, _please_, just stop...I'll tell you!" she pleaded.

"Will you now?" he said as though that hardly mattered to him at this point and he was dead set on torturing her anyways.

"Please! Please listen," she pleaded, making her eyes frantic. She wanted to seem as desperate as possible. "Please, anything but that," she cried out through her tears.

Malfoy smirked. "We'll see if what you have to say is adequate," he said slowly. "So what is it?" he said. But he didn't step away from her. He seemed intent on intimidating her no matter what.

She froze and looked into his cruel face, terrified.

"Well, spit it out, Granger. We don't have all day here," he demanded. And as if to remind her of why she was going to tell him, he gently grazed his lips across her neck.

She shuddered and spoke through her tears in gasps. "Har...Harry's house...as a child..."

He made a _tsk_ing sound as if this was useless and then completely undid his belt and removed it.

"What of it?" he queried with a clearly unimpressed tone and then bit her collarbone.

"Something..." she whispered, her voice choked.

"Not very helpful, Granger," he said as he placed his hands on her waist. "Perhaps you need some motivation," he whispered in his fake alluring tone as he raised his hands and the almost brushed her breasts.

"Something Harry will need. Something that's helped him live so long," Hermione quickly rushed out.

"So they hid something there?" he said, finally taking a fraction of a step back to look at her face as though to gauge the truthfulness of her words.

Hermione looked into his face, her eyes wide in terror, and after a moment, slowly nodded.

"What's there?"

"A weapon..."

The answers came more freely now and she allowed herself to look more and more broken. Her head hung and her words came out sounding fully defeated.

"Where did he live?"

"Somewhere in Surry. I've never been there myself."

"They hid something and you've no idea where it is? Aren't you supposed to be his sidekick?"

"It was Dumbledore's doing," she said softly.

"What is this weapon?"

Hermione at this point shut down and cried. She refused to say anything more. Malfoy tried to grab at her neck and shake her into answering, but they played out the scene as though it'd become too much for her. It was clear she wasn't going to say any more. Finally he stepped away from her and gave her a shrewd once over as though thoroughly disgusted by what he saw before him.

"Well, we'll see what we can make of this little bit of information."

He collected his belongings without releasing her, made for the door. As he opened it, he turned around as though he'd forgotten something.

"Oh, and just for making me wait and drag it out of you," he said in a falsely bright tone and then cast a curse at her that produced several bruises and cuts on her exposed skin. "Perhaps I'll think about sending Prinky to attend to you in an hour or so. Those wounds won't heal on their own. Only get worse. Maybe next time you'll tell me what I want right away instead."

She gasped in pain as the wounds appeared and grew more sever across her skin. She strained against the chains but that only made it worse. She tried to call out, but then the gag was over her mouth again and he'd shut the door behind him.

Hermione hung there, not sure of how long he'd leave her waiting. After a couple of minutes had passed, she feared it wasn't as much of an act and that he really would just leave her waiting there for an hour. Terror began to rise in her chest as she began the futile task of looking around the room for some way of getting down.

Much to her relief, after only a couple of minutes he reentered carrying some supplies. He looked calm again, and much more like his usual self. The hatred and disgust was gone and instead was a look of remorse and even a twinge of fear. Fear for what, she couldn't be sure of, but he sighed in relief as he released her arms from the shackles and caught her before her feet could hit the floor to soften the blow. When she was steady, he released his hold on her waist and took a step back. She looked up to see him gazing down at her in concern.

He slowly raised his hand to brushed a few of her stray tears from her cheek.

"You were perfect, Granger," he said softly.

Hermione nodded. She'd even forgotten it was an act he was so convincing himself.

"You were bloody convincing. Forgot for a moment it was all an act myself," she said with a small smile.

He smirked. "I think this will work," he said as he walked her over to the bed. One of the wounds he'd inflicted was on the inside of her leg, causing her to limp. As soon as she was sitting comfortably, he busied himself with the supplies he'd brought and set about healing the wounds they'd had to inflict for the act. She was surprised he was doing it himself instead of sending for Prinky.

"I hope so. If he senses anything, we're both dead," she said.

"I'm quite good at guarding my mind. You have nothing to fear from that end. It's really what comes of the information he uses."

"He'll find something, but nothing of real importance," she said.

Malfoy nodded and then fell silent as he focused on attending to the cuts on her left arm. He gently dabbed at each one with the healing potion and they disappeared as if they'd never been there in the first place.

"What kind of healing potion is this? I've never seen something that works so fast."

Malfoy smirked. "Severus has a very potent stock. I did some tweaking of this myself, though."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up in shock. "You've created your own healing potion?" She couldn't believe he was that skilled. He was capable of more than she ever thought and she wondered why he didn't do better in school. He should've been her number one competition in every class, but instead she beat him easily.

To her surprise, instead of gloating, he lowered his eyes and shrugged. "Hardly. More like adding on to something that was near perfect to begin with. Severus did most of the work."

Hermione tilted her head and watched him more closely than ever. Never had she seen a humble Malfoy. Nor one who would be so meticulous about healing, as he had left no mark behind when he finally stood up. She looked at him - really looked at him closely and for the first time allowed herself to appreciate and fully recognize how handsome his features are. Squared jaw, face perfectly symmetrical. His eyebrows were perfectly shaped and not at all too bushy, as some men's can be. His blond hair was shorter how, no longer slicked back, but still styled with some type of product to find that perfect balance between messy and perfectly maintained. His eyes were crystal blue. The shape of his mouth surprisingly sensual for a man. His lips weren't too thin, nor particularly full, but just prominent enough to look soft and perfectly kissable. Upon gazing at this particular feature, she caught herself licking her own lips and then realized just what she was doing and immediately dropped her eyes. Thankfully, he was so engrossed in his work that he'd no idea she was so blatantly checking him out. And even better, before she could be tempted to stare again, he stood up very soon after that.

"Feeling pain anywhere still?" he asked while giving her a clinical once over glance.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I feel perfectly fine, thank you." She gave him a small smile which he barely returned and he turned to the door. She thought he seemed uncomfortable for some reason now and she wanted to make it better but had no idea what to say to him. She found herself wishing he wouldn't leave so soon, but couldn't bring herself to say so.

"Granger," he said from the door. He'd turned back to look at her. She just remained seated on the bed. He looked almost upset by something.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. I hope you realize you just saved my life and my family's."

Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile. "Thanks for not torturing me," she murmured.

"Goodnight," he said and then he left.

Hermione wondered how presenting the information to Voldemort would go. She tossed and turned for hours before she could finally sleep and prayed that the next person to walk into her cell would be Malfoy with good news. Not someone far less friendly to kill her for lying.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks so much for those of you who have reviewed so far! Any feedback is helpful and much appreciated :)

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

After playing out their scenario, Hermione didn't see Draco for a week. She assumed he wasn't needed to interrogate to the fullest capacity after extracting some information. He was also likely busy formulating and carrying out the plan to go do Surrey with Voldemort. She knew it would be almost no time before either he returned or she would be deemed of no further use and be killed. Her lack of awareness of what was going on had her on edge though.

The information she gave only divulged what she knew, and what Voldemort should know, about what has kept Harry protected all this time. Hermione knew why Harry had to return to that house ever summer until is seventeenth birthday. Now that it was past that time, there was nothing new for Voldemort to gain. If he had any sense, he'd know what was there already. But thankfully they made it sound like it was some secret weapon of Harry's, and he would only hide it in some place important to his childhood. This was a motive Voldemort would surely follow and believe - as he'd done with all of his horcruxes. So why wouldn't he believe Harry had done the same with some weapon to destroy his enemy?

But Malfoy hadn't stopped in at any point to explain how things went. All he did was send a brief message with Prinky that said everything went as planned. Not a single detail of what actually happened. She was left completely in the dark.

The feeling of being alone and isolated down in the dungeon was starting to wear on her nerves. From time to time she could hear the sound of footsteps from the other side of the door. Or perhaps the silence was so profound her brain started imagining the sounds to keep her from going insane. She heard metal creaking and faintly clanging as she went to sleep. And one night she swore she could heard someone screaming. It was so distant and so faint, but it kept her awake for hours afterwards. Now, any time Prinky came in to give her food or bring her clean clothes, she found herself jumping as she grew ever more fearful that the next person coming through the door would be Voldemort or someone else to take her away and torture her.

Finally, after seven days of isolation, she awoke with a start one morning and sensed someone else in the room. Her eyes flew open and she sat up in the bed.

She breathed an audible sigh of relief which prompted Malfoy to look up from the book he was reading.

"How long have you bloody been there, Malfoy?" she demanded as she sat up in the bed.

"Not more than fifteen minutes. It's quite early. Figured I'd let you sleep although they told me to come down here and question you some more."

"I get plenty of sleep. I'm down here all alone with no idea what's going on. I had no idea how the whole plan went through and you didn't even tell me what he's done with the information. I've been down here a bloody wreck because you haven't told me a damn thing!"

"I sent you that message with Prinky," he said casually, but didn't meet her eyes.

"Which was hardly enough to go on! A week with no real information or contact from anyone! I was beginning to fear you'd been found out and then I'd be dead too," she said, now sitting on the edge of the bed as she grew more impassioned in expressing her frustration. She wanted to just reach out and smack him for being so careless.

He leaned forward in his chair. Only now did she realize how close he was seated to her bed. "Granger, I swear you can count on me to warn you if anything like that will happen. You don't need to worry."

Hermione pursed her lips and then looked away, not sure she could really believe him.

"Granger," he said as he put his hands on her shoulders. His proximity startled her and she looked into his eyes. An urgency shone in them, a desperate need for her to understand everything he said, and couldn't say.

"We are in this together now, don't you understand that? We both just lied outright to the Dark Lord. And we will have to do it again. And we will have to trust each other if we're going to continue getting away with it. I need you to trust me," he finished softly.

Hermione bit her lip and looked away. It was leap - the largest leap of faith she'd ever attempted. Should she trust Draco Malfoy?

She looked back into his face - honest and open. Or perhaps he was just a good actor. She'd seen how convincing he could be just a week ago in their act.

"I'll try," she whispered.

He nodded and let go of her shoulders. "I suppose that's all I can ask for," he said.

"So what did happen?" she asked after a short silence. The atmosphere in the room was tense after his declaration, and she desperately wanted it to dissipate.

"It played out perfectly," he said with a bit of smugness to his tone at having outwitted the Dark Lord. "He sent a few people to check out the place once he finally figured out the exact address. He wanted an idea of what he'd be dealing with. There were a couple of your people there and they sent the death eaters running. So Voldemort planned an attack for the next night, but everything in the house was gone. No one was there. He figured they'd fled with whatever they were hiding once they'd been found out. Needless to say the ones who fucked up the secret mission were severely punished."

Hermione furrowed her brow and wondered why on earth people would actually be waiting at Harry's home. There was nothing there. The Dursely's had long since left to find safety elsewhere. Perhaps they had hidden something or turned it into a safe home for some people since she'd been gone. She was relieved there was nothing found and no one was hurt, but she wondered what could possibly lead members of the Order to be there.

"You look confused," Malfoy observed when she hadn't responded in awhile.

"Just thinking about something."

"Well, you can share your thoughts. You know I'm not going to tell the Dark Lord anything," he said. "It's mildly frustrating sitting here wondering what you're thinking about the whole thing."

This statement only made her more confused. Why wouldn't he be running to Voldemort with everything? She knew he wasn't keen on doing his orders, but why was he doing this?

"Malfoy, whose side are you on?" she asked, instead of giving him a straight answer. She still couldn't trust him to share all of her thoughts. This could all still be part of some act he was doing to make her slip up and divulge more than she realized in the long run.

He looked at her with piercing eyes. "I am against anyone who would threaten me or my family," he said slowly.

"Why haven't you left him then?"

"It would be a threat to my family's safety. He'd kill them."

Hermione nodded. It was the same thing Harry said he'd professed to Dumbledore that night just a few months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago now.

"You know there are other options, right?" she suggested softly, knowing what Dumbledore offered him that night as well.

He looked sad. "None that are feasible right now, Granger. I have to leave now," he said.

Hermione nodded yet again. She knew he probably didn't really have to be anywhere. Rather he just didn't want to stay there and talk about himself and his position with Voldemort. He left without another word and she didn't try to stop him. The entire situation both of them were in was entirely depressing.

* * *

><p>From that moment on, their relationship had shifted. Instead of seeing him as a captor, she grew to understand he was just as much a prisoner as she. Clearly he wanted no part in helping Voldemort succeed, but his family and regular death threats kept him around. And while Hermione thought something could possibly be done if he only tried hard enough, she couldn't fully begrudge him. She'd come to see him as another victim of Voldemort's crimes - a victim just as horribly treated as she had been. He'd been manipulated and forced to do things he didn't want to do because his life and others lives were resting on his shoulders. Since he helped her by not forcing information out of her through torture, she would help him. And if she was ever rescued, she vowed she'd do what she could to ensure his safety as he'd done for her. Perhaps that was his game plan, his reason for being so kind to her. But there was no denying that they were partners of sorts now. Co-conspirators leading Voldemort on a wild goose chase of false trails. That is what she hoped they were, at least. So long as she continued sitting in this prison, however, she could never be too sure.<p>

After a couple of weeks had passed, he started coming back twice each day. Sometimes he came bearing some extra food, or a piece of the Daily Prophet she'd likely find interesting. She felt so grateful for it each him, and couldn't help but feel warm under his small, yet kind smile each time he gave her something. It was nice to feel like she was being cared for in some small way in this horrible place. _It could all be a game. All part of a carefully crafted, calculating game to make you trust him. _And it was for that reason she could never fully let her guard down with him.

A strange occurrence was when he showed up a _third _time just as she was thinking she'd finally get some sleep.

"Back again?" she said, sitting up in the bed.

"I used you as an excuse to get out of an obnoxious meeting with my Aunt Bellatrix and father," he said as he conjured a chair to lounge in. "It was a nice, plush chaise. He leaned back with his feet up and clasped his hands behind his head. He looked like the epitome of relaxation, which completely contrasted the words coming from his mouth. "Works in my favor since they're starting to monitor my whereabouts and how often I spend torturing you anyways. More time can't hurt," he said with a shrug.

Hermione nodded. "I figured as much. How long until you need more information?"

"Probably a week from now."

"I'll have something for you," she said.

His eyes became a bit more serious with the next thing he said.

"They talked about bringing more people down here to torture you since you've started to crack under the pressure."

Fear rose to her chest. "Is that happening?" Only when the prospect of having someone else around to torture her came up did she realize how lucky she was to have Malfoy assigned to her. A sentiment she never imagined experiencing. Feeling lucky to have Malfoy in her life in some way. He was saving her, she knew it full well. But he was also saving himself - or counting on her to save him. She could feel certain enough about this too, although it had never been expressed.

He shook his head. "No. I've led them to believe that I've been able to get through to you and that you won't respond to anyone else. That will keep my aunt away from you again."

"What did you tell them?"

Malfoy smirked. "Let's just say, you're beginning to find me _irresistible_."

"_What!?" _Hermione screeched at him. She felt herself heating up at the thought of what they must think she was doing with him down here. Not that she cared what Death Eaters thought of her - but that she could ever be so shallow and so pathetic to desire her captor and interrogator. The idea of it was humiliating.

Malfoy laughed. "Hey, it's not that much of a stretch for anyone else to believe."

Hermione looked at him squarely. Sure, he was attractive. Unusually so. But all of that was overshadowed by his horrible personality.

"The thought though, it's just..."

"The most enticing thought you've ever had? Because my very presence is distractingly intoxicating?" he said leaning forward in his seat, his tone seductive. She could tell from the look in his eyes he was completely joking though.

Hermione laughed. "Those were the farthest words from my mind."

"You know, there are plenty of ladies who would gladly be in your position. Held captive with me as their interrogator. They'd be pleading with me to touch them," he said casually as he sat back in his chair again.

"They are deluded individuals," she stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Oh, you'll come around," he said with a grin.

"In your dreams, Malfoy," she scoffed.

He laughed. "You're so easy to rile up, Granger."

She huffed, still feeling bothered by the implication, but lightened up. She almost smiled despite herself when she realized this was the first conversation where he was really poking fun at her all in good humor. It reminded her of being around the Weasley's and Harry.

"See, you're even smiling at the thought now. I know exactly what you really want, Granger," he said with a devilish smirk.

She laughed. "Never! I was just thinking how it'd been awhile since someone's had me riled up over some joke like that. Like with Harry and Ron."

Malfoy furrowed his brow and seemed to grow uncomfortable. He shifted in his chair and looked up at her. "There's little room for joking around even in my life, and I have some of my friends around."

"Crabbe and Goyle?" she queried. She thought they seemed far too thick in the head to actually be able to make a joke.

He laughed at the suggestion. "Those, Granger, are lackeys. Combined they're still dumber than a stump."

"Who are your real friends?"

"Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. But I don't get to see them often. Blaise doesn't run with Death Eaters and Theo has his own things happening. You're the only person I can have normal conversations with at times," he said with an attempt at a smile.

Hermione nodded. "I just miss them. I have no one."

He bristled at her words. "You have me," he said.

She laughed. "Right. My interrogator. That hardly makes you a friend, Malfoy."

"Well I'm not your enemy either. I'm sorry you can't see your friends and family. I hope someday you will be able to again," he said tersely. Abruptly, he stood up, clearly wanting to leave now. She couldn't figure out what had him looking so grumpy all of a sudden, but she didn't want to push to find out. It was best for her position to keep a distance. If she shared that she wondered why he was upset, it could be read as him having an upper hand. He'd have earned her concern for his happiness and she didn't want him thinking he had any more of an advantage than he already had.

As he vanished the chair he sat on, she thought she heard another noise from somewhere else in the dungeons. It startled her, as it was the first time she'd heard something while he was in there with her. The noises usually crept up on her while she was alone.

"Malfoy?"

"What?" he bit out from the door.

"Are there other people imprisoned down here around me?"

He furrowed his brow. At least her question distracted him from his irritation. "Why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I swear I can hear people walking. Sometimes faint screams."

"Is that bothering you?"

She noted that he didn't verify one way or another whether there were people down there with her or not. It was likely his mood was still in effect and he wouldn't give her any kind of response she was looking for.

"I'm not sure if the feeling of complete isolation or if knowing others are being tortured is more disturbing. Neither make me feel completely safe," she explained.

"Well, as long as you're a prisoner here, I'd cast out any hopes of feeling safe. You never really know what's lurking around," he said. His tone was so cold. It lacked the reassurance he'd given her on countless other occasions when her safety from Voldemort and the other Death Eaters had come up in conversation. He was angry at her, and she couldn't understand why...until she remembered exactly what she said before he abruptly left. She'd dismissed his appeal to be her friend of sorts. He'd almost said he enjoyed her company to some degree as she was the only one he could actually have somewhat normal conversations with anymore. And she didn't even acknowledge it. After she said she'd try to trust him, she still called him her interrogator. Still made it clear she had a wall up against him. He'd put himself on the line for her, and she threw it right back in his face. If she wanted to not only survive, but build an alliance that could one day get her to safety, she'd have to play her hand much better than she had today. She'd have to do a better job of accepting Malfoy as he was, as he came to her. Or at least pretend to.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Since their last meeting, Malfoy didn't come down to see her more than once in a day. And he didn't stay long. This made her nervous. If he was supposed to be questioning her more, even if he was mad, shouldn't he still be coming down? She feared what would happen if things didn't change soon. Would he turn on her and say she needed another interrogator? That would be dangerous for him too, because then she could just say they'd planned on lying to Voldemort together. That would certainly get him killed. It would be exactly what he deserved after playing games like this with her.

But even at her angriest with him, she didn't think she'd actually have the heart to do it. Because despite being closed off to her, he still treated her decently. He still brought her clips from the Prophet and some extra fruit from the kitchen. But they barely spoke beyond asking about her overall comfort and she would ask what is happening in the war. He would simply gesture to the clippings he brought and shrug. "That's about all I know myself, Granger," he'd say. She knew he was lying. He was closing himself off the same way she'd closed herself off to him and she was suddenly more sorry for that than anything else she'd ever been sorry before in her life. She couldn't see a way of bringing him back around until an unfortunate circumstance arose after four days of the near silent treatment.

She was just rousing from her sleep when she heard him come in. Inwardly she groaned. Although she preferred his company to isolation, she wasn't keen on spending yet another day getting the cold shoulder. She couldn't possibly fathom why he cared so much anyways. Despite their current predicament, surely she was still just a worthless "mudblood" in his eyes.

Ignoring his presence, she tried pretending to sleep for a time, but eventually became restless. Better to just get their conversation for the day over with. So she opened her eyes and found him sitting just in front of her, his chair angled slightly away from her, but he was clearly watching her sleep.

He looked almost sad, and there was even a hint of longing in his gaze. But it disappeared just as she recognized it and she thought she must've been imagining it. As soon as he noticed she was awake and looking at him, his softened features that only served to make his face look even more handsome than usual hardened again. He looked at her with lifeless eyes and turned his chair to face her better. She gasped at the cut on his face that was still healing. It ran from temple to jaw.

"What happened to your face?" she asked urgently as she sat up.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't act like you care, Granger. We both know I'm just your interrogator. I'm sure this makes you happy on some level," he lashed out at her.

"Now don't you presume to know what I'm thinking!" she said as she scooted over to the edge of the bed. Tempers were high and they bickered easily in these past few days.

"I know it's not that you're worried about my well-being. Except as it pertains to your own safety," he said bitterly. "Well, keeping you safe is leading to some payback from my father."

"What?" she said, stunned by his words.

"This is for not being swift enough in getting information. The threats are real now," he ground out.

"Malfoy, why didn't you say something?" she demanded, searching his face for the answer. But he kept himself guarded. "Why haven't you been down here as much to get some information then?"

He shrugged and then looked away. "Busy," he said.

She rolled her eyes. Couldn't he just admit he was upset for one second? It was clear he was really just made at her about what she'd said days ago.

"Malfoy, if I offended you by what I said the other day, I'm sorry. I didn't -" but he cut her off with a harsh laugh.

"Granger you aren't even half important enough to upset me like that. You aren't worth my concern in that regard. I know you despise me and I'd never expect anything otherwise," his tone was matter of fact, but he avoided her gaze.

Now it was her turn to be deeply offended. She looked hard at him, to see if he was lying or not. If he didn't care, then why did he leave so quickly and treat her so harshly the past few days. But she'd be damned if she'd let him know she wondered at this point.

"So what's the problem then?" she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. She prayed she didn't sound as hurt as that declaration made her feel.

"I didn't want to have to torture you like that again. Not even pretending" he said quietly, referring to their most recent scenario. He still refused to look at her and she knew it wasn't the full truth - that he'd also been avoid her because he was offended. But his admission still impacted her profoundly.

"Oh..." she said, surprised yet again by his words.

He laughed bitterly, clearly noting her surprise. "Seems you'll never really believe I'm not some sort of monster here to ruin your life," he said

"Well...old habits die hard," she said meekly, referring to their relationship all throughout school. "I don't think you're some kind of monster though. Really, I don't."

"Well you could bloody well start acting like it," he retorted.

Tentatively, feeling that now was the only chance she'd have to show him that she didn't think he deserved to be hurt like this - that she did care - she reached out and ran her fingers lightly over the healing cut that ran from his temple to his jaw. His eyes flew to hers. They were still hard and looked at her with distrust, even disappointment.

"You've healed me more than once," she said. "If I can do anything for you, all you have to do is ask."

She thought his eyes softened for a minute and he leaned into her touch slightly, but then he was up on his feet.

"I need to leave, Granger. You'll have to think of some new information to share with me and think about how it should be given...considering how they believe I'm getting information out of you."

Hermione gulped. "Just give me a few days," she said. "Is that possible?"

He nodded and then turned to the door.

"Malfoy," she called out before he could open the door.

He stopped but didn't turn around.

"I don't despise you," she said. "Not anymore. I...I haven't for awhile now."

He glanced back of his shoulder at her through narrowed eyes, as though measuring her words against her countenance to see how genuine they were.

"The feeling is mutual, Granger," he said. He still didn't sound as friendly as he had in the past, before she'd mucked it all up, but his tone wasn't quite as cold either. She prayed things had been fixed between them, or were at least on the way to being so.

* * *

><p>Hermione had long been asleep when she was forced awake by the door to her chamber being flung open - slamming against the wall.<p>

Malfoy flew into the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it quickly. Before she could even get her bearings straight, he'd reached the bed in two swift, long strides, and she flung herself back against the corner of the wall, crouching on the bed. He knelt on the bed and reached for her, pulling her towards him so her ear was close enough to whisper almost inaudibly, "Follow my lead."

And he shot up from the bed, "I told you to strip," he shouted. "Do not question me! Follow my orders, you insolent, filthy mudblood!"

He couldn't even look at her and pretend to say these things. He turned away from her and with his wand, lifted the chair and sent it hurtling at the wall closest to the door, for particularly violent effect. After this he strode swiftly to the door, opened it, and peeked out, in both directions to be sure the coast was clear.

He closed the door, locking it with more charms than usual and with visible relief flooding his features, he conjured a chair and took a seat across from the bed.

"What time is it? What's going on?" she demanded urgently. She wrapped her arms around herself in the freezing room. At least while asleep she could ignore the cold for a time, but now it was palpable.

"It's three in the morning," he said, answering her first question. "I was ordered to come here to interrupt your sleep. I'm not to allow you to get too comfortable."

"Ah, so they're expecting that I'll crack under pressure because of irregular sleeping and eating schedules?"

"Precisely. I don't know how I'm expected to interrogate as effectively when I'm sleep deprived too though. Evidently they didn't think this one through."

She laughed and felt warm relief spread through her body. His tone and attitude towards her suggested he'd forgiven her and things could go back to normal. "Oh yes, because your torture techniques are so much better when you're well rested," she replied.

"Shall I tell the others you aren't pleased with the quality of torture you're receiving?" he replied with a smirk.

She gulped although she knew he wasn't serious. "No," she said firmly.

There was a pause in conversation and she caught his eyes on the empty space of bed and she knew what he would say before it came out.

"I have to stay here, for at least a couple hours, so would you mind if I slept on the other side. I won't touch you," he said with sincerity.

She pursed her lips for a moment and looked away from him. She was comfortable with him, but not that comfortable.

"Can't you just conjure another bed?"

Draco looked around the room and raised his eyebrows at her. "With what room?"

She looked around and had to agree. The room, which was rather more of a cell, had space enough for her bed and the chair alone. And the wall opposite her bed had chains, enough room for her to stand in agony for hours, but not enough space for another bed along the wall. She didn't care for the idea, but was also feeling grateful towards him for how he'd kept her from being harmed so far. He had even asked for permission, he hadn't just set himself down in the bed demanding his space. She had the feeling she could make him sleep on the floor if she wanted, but did he really deserve that at this point?

"Fine," she replied tersely.

She moved herself closer to the wall and let him lay down in the bed. There was not a lot of room for him to lie without them touching. She turned herself away from him and faced the cold, stone wall. She shivered. Usually she could keep herself away from the wall so the cold stone didn't make her colder than she already was, but to keep from laying against Malfoy, she had to lay against the wall.

"Do you ever stop?" he demanded, and she knew what he was talking about.

She flew around to face him, pulling down the covers to see the minimal clothing she was given to wear in her captivity.

"Listen, I'm cold. I'm cold every night. Because I have nothing else to wear but these flimsy clothes and this is the only blanket. How could you expect me to just stop being cold in this frigid room?" she replied hotly.

"Just go to sleep," he said dismissing her outburst.

She huffed and turned around, trying to wrap herself in the flimsy blanket as a cocoon.

"That's it!" Malfoy suddenly said with deep irritation and suddenly shot out of the bed. "We better not be caught," he grumbled as he moved towards the door and put up countless more protection charms. He then turned around, looking manic. Suddenly, Hermione felt the bed shifting beneath her. It grew slightly in size, not much for the size of the room, and the blankets grew in thickness. Plush pillows took the place of the flimsy fabric that typically rested beneath her head and in a few seconds, she could feel warmth spreading throughout her body.

"I can't sleep like this. You're shaking the entire bloody bed, the blankets are scratchy and pillows are going to give me muscle spasms," he said as he carried out the transformation.

He got back into the bed and Hermione was about to laugh at his ranting.

"What?" he said, as she started laughing.

"This is what I live with day in and day out, and you're upset about a few hours? You're such a brat."

"Hey!" he said, genuinely insulted. "I am not!"

Hermione actually let out a small laugh. "Listen to you! You even argue back like a child." She put on a mocking tone, "_I am not!_"

"You're bloody unbearable," he said, but with a laugh. "And how the bloody hell are you still shivering?" he demanded.

"It's this stone wall," she replied.

"Switch me spots," he said. And before waiting for her response, he pulled her over him and planted her on the outside of the bed so he would be against the wall.

She was shocked by the way he touched her, but he quickly withdrew once they'd settled into their new spots. Hermione figured he wanted to make it very clear he didn't want to invade her space and make her uncomfortable, which she appreciated.

As they laid there, she remembered the conversation they'd once had about how many other women would be dying to be in her shoes. _Now more than ever_, she thought.

She let out a small laugh.

"What funny?" he asked softly.

She laid on her side and propped her head up on her elbow and he mirrored her position.

"Just thinking about what we were talking about once. This seems like one of those positions you said plenty of women would love to find themselves in. According to you at least."

He smirked. "It's true. And you have me all to yourself. Whatever will you do with me to make it count?" he asked, with a teasingly flirtatious lilt to his tone.

She returned his smirk. "Sleep. It's going to be glorious."

"You don't even have a slight urge to do something else?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She laughed. "Never!"

"Are you still going to deny you find me attractive?" he said.

"Sure you're good looking, Malfoy," Hermione said.

He looked pleased, but she wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. "But you know that's not everything."

His smile faltered, and he turned away from her, laying on his back to stare up at the ceiling.

"You still think I'm that horrible?" he asked softly.

Guilt washed over her. She hadn't even really thought about what she said. Was he really that bad? She wanted to say something to make him feel better. Perhaps their relationship had changed more than she thought. She clearly thought more highly of him than she realized before this moment. She didn't like making him feel bad and didn't think he deserved it either.

After a few moments of silence, he seemed to assume she wasn't going to respond and he turned away from her fully.

She bit her lip and struggled over finding the right words to say.

"Malfoy?" she finally whispered.

He didn't respond for a moment, and she thought he was maybe going to pretend to be asleep. But he let out a deep breath.

"What, Granger?"

But he didn't turn around. He kept his back to her.

"I don't think you're horrible. I want to believe you've changed. But I can't ever let my guard down. I know things are different with us, but I'm trapped here. I'll never really know if I can trust you. I'm still in this position alone, with no support...do you understand that?"

Draco finally turned around and looked at her as though he was seeing her for the first time. "More than you know." And then he did something that really shocked her. He slid his arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. He guided her to rest her head on his shoulder. She let out a soft gasp as he pulled her close to him and stroked her hair. His movements were relaxing and she found herself drifting off to sleep before her mind could think too much about what this meant.

In the morning she woke when she felt him slowly stirring in the bed, but she pretended to still be asleep. During their sleep, he'd turned her around so her back rested against his chest and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. She felt warmer than she had in weeks of being in this cold cell and she found herself wishing she could lay with him like this every night if it meant being so warm and comfortable. Surely he wouldn't feel the same, which is why he was making his escape after only a few hours of sleep. But she couldn't blame him. It wasn't his company she thought she wanted - it was his comforting presence.

But then he did something that shocked her so much she almost gave away the fact she was awake.

Slowly, he removed his arm that was draped over her waist and brushed her hair off her shoulder, leaving it exposed to the chilly air. His fingers traced her skin in small tantalizing circles. She found herself wondering what his touch would feel like elsewhere on her body. All too soon for her liking though, he recovered her shoulder and then, clearly trying not to wake her, he slid to the bottom of the bed and busied himself with putting his shoes on.

She pretended to be fast asleep until she heard the door close behind him as he left.

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><p>AN: Hope y'all like this chapter! Let me know what you think - good or bad! :)<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Thanks again for those of you who have reviewed! Any feedback is great to have.

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

Not a single blemish or crack in the entire ceiling. While Hermione had spent nearly two months in her cell, she hadn't ever really taken to just staring at the ceiling. Normally, she'd move about the room as much as she could. Or even if she was looking at the ceiling, she would be thinking hard about what Harry and Ron must be doing or what might happen to her. As of late, Malfoy had begun seeping into her solitary thoughts more frequently, but she hadn't thought anything of it. She figured it was just because they'd been talking more lately in a civil way. Or because they'd lied to Voldemort together. Of course she'd grow more concerned about him. His survival and ability to lie to Voldemort directly impacted her own life.

Wanting to shut her brain off, Hermione had simply been laying in bed all day long. She managed to doze off for maybe two hours after Malfoy left, but since then, she'd been laying there trying to keep her thoughts clear. This is how she decided to search for any blemishes on the ceiling. She wished her brain would just stop thinking because without fail, her mind returned again and again to replaying the events of last night, and then this morning.

At the time, she didn't mind that he slept in her bed. It didn't seem unreasonable. It wasn't even uncomfortable or awkward.

What bothered her was the sensation she felt when he touched her. And then the more she thought about that, the more she thought about how he held her all night and she felt chills every time her mind recreated the scene and sensations perfectly.

He was no longer a boy - he was a man in every physical way. That much she knew after laying with him. His muscle toned arms around her as well as his firm chest and abs. She felt like a silly girl for being so easily swayed by his physical presence and she feared to face him later. Surely he'd see right away that she was attracted to him, something she never thought possible. She would have to be as indifferent to his presence as possible. Make it clear that she wasn't at all affected by what happened last night. And she certainly didn't want to let on she felt him touching her this morning.

When Malfoy finally arrived later that day, she didn't move to sit up. Only stared harder at the ceiling. She feared looking at him would weaken her resolve.

"That ceiling sure is fascinating," he said when she didn't move after he'd been in the room for a few moments and had conjured his usual chair.

"Well, I have to look at something while I'm in here. Nothing to do but stare aimlessly," she said in a flat voice.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded. He sounded more annoyed than concerned.

She sat up a little bit and looked at him as neutrally as possible, willing herself to think that he wasn't remotely attractive. She forced herself to recall all the reasons she hated him back in school.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug.

"You better not be acting weird because of last night. You were fine with it at the time," he said harshly.

"No, it's fine," she lied. She had a problem with it alright, but not for the reason he was likely thinking.

"Then what's your problem?"

Instead of being honest, she turned the conversation around to what had always been bothering her deep down. "Malfoy, how do I know I can trust you?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Granger - I lied to Voldemort for you. How much more can you need to know? What reasonable proof can I give you without getting you or myself killed as a result?"

"It just makes no sense...why?" she demanded. Now she fully sat up. If they were going to have this conversation she could easily forget about the events of last night and her desire for him. This was far more important.

"I'd think it makes a lot of sense, given how he's treated me and my family," Malfoy said as if she were dumb.

"Then why even stay? Why hasn't your whole family left? I just can't bloody figure it out."

His frustration was visible. "There are things I can't tell you, Granger. It's not safe," he said, leaning forward in his chair. His posture pleaded even pleading with he to just stop questioning him.

"But what do you think will happen? You know I'd never say anything to Voldemort. I can keep my mind closed," she persisted.

"It's too risky," he said firmly.

"I need to understand if I can trust you. I need to know! Because it's not like I can be kept here indefinitely with you playing nice and lying to Voldemort left and right. I'll run out of fake stories - and that's if he doesn't lose patience and just kill us both first. You know this can't last forever."

"Of course I know that Granger. But I've been as open as I can and it's up to you to make that decision about me. I thought you said last night you didn't think I was horrible anymore," he said, now sounding offended that she would continue refusing to trust him after all of this.

"I want to believe you aren't," she said.

"What's stopping you?" he demanded hotly.

"I can't figure out your motives. Or what your endgame is. So the idea that it's all just a game naturally crosses my mind," she explained patiently. She was trying to remain calm in the face of his rising frustration. She didn't want to upset him like she did last time. That wouldn't do her any good.

"The only game happening, Granger, is ours against the Dark Lord," he ground out harshly.

"But this can't keep going on this way. You must have a plan to get out, and soon!" she said urgently. Did he really not see that this game they were playing was so dangerous that every day spent in here was a day closer to their untimely death.

"Granger, you're asking for things I can't tell you at this point. You may as well stop asking now because I won't say another word on it." His tone was hard as ice and final.

"Then I can never fully trust you," she said somewhat sadly.

Malfoy smirked, and she found it an odd response. "Because you're far too clever. Now, as for our game as we're calling it now, have you figured out what lie to tell me?" he queried.

"I have some idea," she said.

"What about the delivery?" he asked next, and looked at her with a devilish smirk.

She bit her lip. "Not as sure about that," she said softly. She knew what he was getting at and she wished desperately he hadn't taken the conversation there. Her resolve was going to unravel, without a doubt.

He asked because he'd told them all that she'd come to desire him, and it was through certain methods that pleasured her that he got all of his information. She hated it had become the truth. Part of that at least. She wanted to say something to break the tension, but she couldn't think of anything. All she could think of was the way his heated gaze made her feel warm inside.

He stood up and came over to the edge of her bed. "Stand up, Granger," he demanded. She cursed herself for letting her nerves get the best of her under his smoldering gaze. Following his directions, she stood up and faced him, looking up into his crystal blue eyes.

Slowly, as if reaching out to pet a wild rabbit likely to jump away at the slightest movement, he lifted his hand. Just as slowly, he pushed her hair over her shoulder and then brought his hand down to her shoulder and lightly brushed his fingertips across her skin.

"So soft," he murmured, so quietly she thought he hadn't really meant for her to hear him. He trailed his fingers across her shoulder and up along her neck until he wrapped his hand around the side of her neck, placing his thumb under her jaw right against her pulse point.

"We can make it painless this time," he whispered huskily.

What was he doing? Why was he acting like he was attracted to her? Was it only to make her feel more comfortable about the whole thing - about this whole charade they were putting on for Voldemort? She would be willing to go through with it for their safety and to keep the ruse going. But why do this now? She couldn't keep the nervous thoughts from swirling in her brain, wondering at his motives.

His hand wandered back into her hair, his fingers scraping lightly against her skull. He was painfully close to her, but still kept the rest of his body from touching her.

He suddenly gripped her hair a bit more tightly and pulled her head back to look up more directly into his face. And he could peer down into hers, reading her every emotion. She let out a breathy gasp.

"Or maybe just a little rough," he whispered next to her ear. He trailed his lips lightly down from her ear and under her jaw and stopped where her pulse was pounding away. She felt his lips curve into a smirk.

"I think you'd like that," he whispered.

She found herself nodding and her breath came short. Slowly, he placed a lingering kiss against her neck, and then again along her jaw. Slowly, at a painfully slow pace, his placed lingering kisses against her jaw and cheek. His hand massaging the base of her skull while his other hand came to rest on her waist, pulling her closer to him.

His lips reached the corner of her mouth and then the alarms went off.

"Just what are you doing?" she demanded, pushing him back fiercely.

His smirk didn't recede as she expected it would. "Just seeing how you respond to certain things. We'll need to make this just as convincing as the last one," he explained innocently, but his eyes had a devilish look to them.

"Why do I get the feeling you're looking forward to this far more than you should be?"

"Maybe because I am, Granger. Very much so," he teased.

She shook her head. "Stop messing around. We both know you wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole under normal circumstances. We need to be serious about this," she said sternly. She was already in a compromising position and didn't need to be mocked in the process.

He shrugged. "Keep believing whatever you want. It seems you always do," he said as though this matter was of little importance to him.

But then she remembered what he did before leaving her room just this morning. Perhaps he did want her. She gave him a once over while he was momentarily distracted with a box she hadn't noticed on the floor until now.

Exquisitely built and one of those classically handsome faces. He was bred for perfection and was undoubtedly tied to some pureblood of equal status. She was no plain Jane herself, but they were from different worlds and there was no bridging them. No, there was no way he could actually be attracted to or interested in her. Not in this lifetime, nor in any other.

When he stood back up, he held the box out to her.

"Staying here last night made me think to bring you something," he said, his voice no longer playful but serious. It was even a little bit vulnerable.

Tentatively taking the box, she watched him warily, unable to guess what he could possibly bring down for her.

She sat down on the bed and opened the box. Inside was a simple black sweater, that felt incredibly warm and soft.

"It's getting colder out, you know..." he said and drifted off.

"Malfoy...I...thank you," she said softly.

He watched her, pleased with her reaction as she put it on. "It's nothing. This suits you perfectly," he stated.

There was a pause as she looked up at him, unsure of what to say. Why would he do something like this? She was almost upset that he would take his kindness just one step father when she was trying to remain as neutral as possible. She swore that if this was all a game for him, she'd personally give him a bloody and painful death. She knew she needed to say something, but the words wouldn't come.

"I'm glad you like it. But I have to leave. There is a raid tonight," he said after the momentary silence.

"A raid?" she said, startled out of her thoughts.

He nodded.

Without another word, because she didn't even want to know the details at this point, she cast all concern for what it might look like out of her mind and put her arms around his waist and hugged him. She felt him hesitate for a moment, and she feared she'd just overstepped a major boundary. As she was about to pull back, he put his arms around her shoulders and hugged her - tight. Before she pushed it too far, she stepped away, although somewhat reluctantly. Only when she stood this close did she realize how tall he'd become.

"I hope..." she stopped. She wasn't even sure what she hoped. "Just be safe," she finally said.

He smiled down at her. It was a small smile, but kind nonetheless.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said softly and then turned to leave the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Hermione's day and evening passed slowly. All day her mind was torn in two - one side feeling concerned over Malfoy's well being and the other half of her brain telling her to stop being a moron and forget about Malfoy. Just a few months ago she was with Harry and Ron, with Malfoy just an annoying blip in the back of her mind. Now...he was all she could think of apparently. And she felt disgusted with herself. And painfully stupid. How could she have hugged him? After spending all day and night in a slow downward spiral, she felt herself drifting off to a much needed and welcome sleep. She'd welcome anything to silence the thoughts of Malfoy.

Before she could fully drift off, however, she heard her door open. Groggily she sat up a bit in her bed. _There's no way it could be morning yet, _she thought.

By the door, there was object of her tortured thoughts. When she saw him she felt even more stupid. She could not make herself so emotionally vulnerable to him. Not when he wouldn't be upfront about his motives. It was no good developing feelings for a Death Eater who was likely to turn on her at any given time that his own life was threatened.

"My mother is ill and I couldn't sleep," he said quietly. And the tone of his voice made her forget all resolution to stop worrying about him. He sounded like he was in pain.

"Malfoy - what's wrong?" she asked, now fully awake. She sat up completely and really looked at him. He looked completely dejected, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. He also looked nervous and lost, as though he wasn't sure if he should be here or if he'd come to the right place.

"She was hit by some spell. Not even by someone on your side. She was hit by accident by another death eater."

"Do you know who?"

"No. And Voldemort doesn't seem to care to find out. Deems it beneath his attention amongst all his other concerns."

Hermione's eyes welled with tears on his behalf, but she blinked them away quickly. She couldn't be here sobbing over his situation when he was so bent out of shape as well.

"What does your father know about it?"

At this Malfoy's eyes darkened into a shade of anger and loathing she'd never seen before - not even directed towards herself. "He's too much of a bloody coward to do anything about it."

"Malfoy...I..." she falterd, hardly knowing what to say.

"It's fine, Granger. You don't need to say anything," he said softly, apparently noting that she hardly knew what to say to him. It was a horrible thing, to know that his father wouldn't do what he could to protect his family.

"I hate him."

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, realizing this was a futile question. As a prisoner, there was literally nothing she could do but listen and feel sorry about his situation. She couldn't possibly help.

"The thing is," he continued, "well...I'm not sure how to ask this right...I couldn't sleep and I was thinking of last night when I slept here and how much I liked just lying with you..." he said, drifting off at the end.

Hermione kept her reaction in check. Shock didn't begin to cover what she felt.

It was the first time she saw that he relied on her for more than just conversation and a voice of reason.

Without speaking, she simply nodded and pulled the covers down in a gesture for him to join her.

He transformed the bed just as he had the night before and then joined her, taking his spot by the wall to keep her from feeling the cold.

He placed his head in the center of his chest and she cradled him against her. He didn't hold onto her, but one arm was draped across her waist so he could lay comfortably on his stomach. The feel of his body shocked her. This was even more intimate than the previous night. It was one thing to sleep close out of warmth, but to provide emotional comfort was a completely different thing. Slowly, as if unsure of how to touch him, she began tracing her fingers against his upper back and neck. As he rested more fully against her, he let out a sound of content.

"That feels so nice," he murmured against her.

"Good," she whispered.

In just a few brief moments, she could tell from the way his weight pressed fully against her body that he was asleep. Continuing her touches she felt herself drifting off too. _Yes, this does feel nice _she thought.

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><p>Early in the morning he awoke and returned to his room after promising he'd return later in the day so they could run through their plan for the next piece of false information for Voldemort. Hermione tried to sleep, but found herself eagerly anticipating later. She could barely admit it to herself, but a part of her wanted Malfoy to touch her again - and more intimately. She finally dozed off with thoughts of Malfoy's touch all over her body as the last thing on her mind.<p>

Later that day though, Draco showed up as planned, but he was not alone. To her dismay, his father and Nott senior were with him. He didn't betray any of his thoughts on the matter as he entered the room however. Just entered swiftly and calmly as though everything was normal and threw her hands apart in shackles upon the wall with a flick of his wand.

Hermione stared wide-eyed and in terror at the three stoic men in front of her. Each of them as malicious-looking as the next. Even Draco, which startled her.

"Do you want me to hurt her?" Draco asked. His tone was cold, unaffected. As though hurting her made not a lick of difference to him.

"Not yet, not yet. Have you been soft with her at all, make her want you, make her beg and then you leave her with nothing?" Lucius queried.

Draco blanked. "That is not my...ah...preferred method..." he said.

"Well why don't you try it," Lucius suggested, but in a tone that said he would not take no for an answer. "Go remove her shirt and caress her," he demanded to Draco.

Hermione gulped. She remembered the last time they touched. It was very different. It was private, it was thrilling. She'd secretly wanted it to happen again. But not this way, never in this way with his father standing right there watching. Not only watching, but telling him what to do every step of the way. Draco made no move to touch her, and she wondered what he would do.

He was hesitating too much, she knew, and his father sighed impatiently.

"What are you waiting for? Here, I'll get you started," he said and with one spell her shirt was gone.

Draco turned from his father and moved towards Hermione swiftly then. He didn't even look down at her naked chest - as being a prisoner all she was provided with was a ruddy top and shorts. Undergarments of any kind were a luxury she hadn't been afforded. She looked at him in a mixture of fear and outrage as he approached her.

He placed his hands on either side of her head, doing his best to completely shield her from their view. He bent his head towards her ear, but she jerked her head away in protest. He caught her head with his left arm, placing his hand on the back of her head and brought her face to rest against his shoulder, as though he were cradling her. He intended it to look as though he was biting her neck as he whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something," he said almost inaudibly as he pressed his mouth against her ear.

And with that, he kissed from her ear across her cheek and then down her neck. He seemed to be taking his time, and his kisses lingered, pressing more and more firmly as if willing her to believe he'd not let her be harmed.

"Let's take it up a notch, Draco," Nott senior said eagerly.

Draco groaned and took a step closer to her. He moved his hands to her waist and then let one fall to her leg, which he grasped and wrapped around his own waist. He pressed her face against his shoulder and neck, hiding her distress from their view.

"She seems to like it," Lucius said maniacally. Hermione's body shook against Malfoy in terror, and she feared that what they'd pretended was happening down here all along was actually about to happen.

"Because she's a whore," Nott countered.

"I'm inclined to step in," Lucius said moving forward.

Draco immediately broke away and stood in front of her defensively. "Well, father, I wouldn't mind sharing, and I'm sure this mudblood wouldn't mind a bit more action either, but that would violate the conditions. She is to be my slave alone, that is her torture. We can't be giving this whore her run of the men here. It would be doing the slut a favor."

Lucius looked disappointed but relented. "You are right, Draco. Well...we'll leave you to it. We'll tend to the whores of our own. See you at dinner," he said, and then he and Nott left the room.

Without looking at her, Draco released Hermione from the chains. He bent down to pick up her shirt and held it out behind him, still refusing to turn and look at her.

"You don't believe in their ideals do you?" she said harshly once she had her top back on. She'd backed away from his as far as possible.

He looked at her in silence. The gulf between them was palpable now. Any progress they'd made was shattered. She could feel every wall going back up and she'd reinforce it ten-fold before she let him slither his way back through again.

"Why don't you stand up to them? At what point would you have stopped?" she demanded when he didn't reply. She was hurt and angry. She knew he had figured out a way to get them out of the room, but what if things went differently. At what point would he have broken away?

"You let them bully you," she persisted

"You're overstepping boundaries. Don't forget your place, Granger," he suddenly lashed out. He looked at her with pained eyes, his fists clenched by his sides. His breathing came in short bursts and he looked about to explode.

"I am not beneath you," she replied bitterly.

"Look where you are," he pointed out.

"Oh, don't even start with that."

"Don't start with what? You have no idea what my situation is or what I do! Don't suggest that I do things differently when I am trying to do what makes sense!"

"You're only doing what makes sense to keep yourself alive. You have no other concern. Just your own skin and your guilty conscience!"

"You're damn right I'm doing what I need to survive! I'm trying to keep myself and my family alive. You should understand that one! Isn't that your concern with Potter and the Weasel?"

"Not at other people's expense!"

"Haven't you noticed I'm not trying to survive at your expense? I've never touched you!"

"Oh yeah, because keeping me locked up in here is that much better! Why don't you grow a pair and do what you really want to do for once?"

"It's not as simple as that!"

"You don't even believe what they say do you? That's why you don't torture me, because you realize it's a load of bullshit, that Voldemort is a maniac, and that the power he promised isn't actually there for the taking. And torturing and killing people isn't all it's cracked up to be, is it?" Hermione was seething, angry that he couldn't just have the courage to stand up for himself. To stand up for something greater than himself.

"Don't push me, Granger," he said, his voice threatening.

"You're weak and a coward!" Hermione shouted.

"This conversation, is over," Malfoy said, his voice thin and he swiftly left the room.

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><p>AN: Thanks for your reviews! Things are going to take a very different turn in the next chapter, which I hope to have up here soon!<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Outside in the corridor, Draco was seething. When he reached his room, he angrily ruffled through his belongings, and threw them into a bag. He knew he'd need to have everything fully prepared for tomorrow night, nothing could be left for the last minute tomorrow. He'd wanted to tell her about his plan of escape today, but now he was too angry.

_You're a coward. _Her words played over and over again in his head as he stormed through his room. Was he? What could he really have done while they were in the room? It would have ruined everything, he would be killed if they got any wind he was not torturing her down there. And she would be in far worse hands. How could she not realize that?

He didn't bother visiting her the rest of the day or that night. He didn't think he could bear to look at her face. Not to see her judgment and hatred. It enraged him. But guilt also started creeping in. He ignored it and thrust more of his belongings into the bag. He truly wasn't expecting to go through with his plan this soon. But it seemed Severus had made the move and things were falling into place earlier than expected.

Just this very morning, Draco returned to his room to find a message from Severus. He unrolled the parchment and could tell from the green ink that it was written with a charm that only allowed the intended reader to see the real message. To anyone else, it would appear in black ink and to be just a regular letter with mundane information. For Draco it read:

_We've got to act now. You will meet me here tonight and I will tell you what to do. Tomorrow night, you will take Hermione out of the cell and make for the order headquarters._

As he finished packing the bag, he caught the time. He needed to be leaving to meet with Severus. Everything felt so rushed and nothing was going right. He couldn't fathom how everything he had planned would fall into place and he feared failure now more than ever in his life.

Hiding the bag under his bed, he swiftly left his room and made for Severus's chambers, as he now stayed in Malfoy Manor more often than not.

As much as he tried, he couldn't to keep the thoughts of what happened with Granger from his head. Everything he'd done to gain her trust, even to try to make her like him the way he couldn't deny he liked her had just been washed away. He was beyond denying to himself that he wanted her. He felt a shocking care towards her almost since she arrived. And since then it had developed into a full blown infatuation. He couldn't begin to think of the lengths he'd have to go to earn her trust back again. When he did he felt frustrated and lost.

Severus answered the door when he knocked and ushered him in quickly. Locking the door behind them and casting several silencing and concealment charms before he finally began talking.

"So, Draco, the time is here. We need to act now for two reasons," he said as he walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope. "Something that is very precious to Voldemort but that will help destroy him has not yet been fully hidden and protected. And tomorrow night they are planning something with Granger. Voldemort wants to try some new tactic to get information out of her."

"What's that?"

"I think some type of public shaming...I'm sure you can get an idea of what he means by that," Snape replied with disgust in his tone.

Draco said nothing in return, and thought of what just happened this afternoon. He didn't think he could bear it.

"So what are we to do?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral. Severus didn't need to know about his feelings towards Granger. It would only make things more uncomfortable.

"You will remove her from her room at precisely 11:30. You will inform him that you are leaving just a few minutes early to make sure she is adequately prepared for the event. You _must_ be ready to aparate with Granger to your aunts residence by 11:45. There can be no deviation from this time. She always meets with Voldemort before our gatherings and she will be leaving at that time precisely, if not just before. She never keeps him waiting. Are you following me?"

Draco nodded. Simple enough so far.

Severus then continued, "When you get there, you will have only fifteen minutes to get through the concealment and protection charms to find something of importance there. It is a horcrux."

Draco blanched. He'd heard of that type of dark magic but couldn't imagine anyone actually used it. He thought it was a legend. "My aunt has been making those?"

Severus shook his head. "She's hiding one for Voldemort. You will have to take it to Potter so it can be destroyed. You will only have those fifteen minutes, because as soon as they realize you aren't showing up with her at midnight, they will know something is wrong. They will come searching. You _do not_ want to be caught in her home."

Draco nodded. That much was obvious. "There is nothing that can incriminate _you_, is there?"

Severus looked at him differently now, as if surprised Draco cared about his safety. "I will be safe. And if anything it will strengthen my place with him once he sees your aunt cannot adequately hide his belongings. He will turn to me and I will know everything."

"What of my mother?"

"I have arranged for her to leave tomorrow morning for a secret location I will only divulge to you after you've succeeded in escaping. No need to endanger her in case you are caught and they try to force you into sharing where she is and why she escaped as well. So I will be in touch with you once things have settled tomorrow evening."

"So you have kept to the plan, correct? You did not torture her at all?"

Draco shook his head.

"Not even once?"

"Not once." He didn't want to mention what happened this afternoon. That was a form of torture that he allowed to happen and guilt washed over him again.

Severus looked at him closely. "Does she trust you?"

Draco thought about her words after the incident and he scowled. She would have if it wasn't for his father. They'd been making progress. He even cared about her, and she willingly let him touch her on multiple occasions which he always relived for hours back in his bed when he went to sleep after each incident. But she would never believe that he cared now. And he'd never be able to touch her soft skin again.

"I'm not sure."

"Well you better hope so if you want her to help the Order believe your motives are true."

_The Order. _Draco had almost forgotten about the storm his arrival at order headquarters would surely stir up. It was unavoidable, something he knew would happen eventually but it always seemed so far away. Now he'd have to face the people who'd seen him as an enemy all his time at Hogwarts and find some way of working with them. It was even more daunting than getting Hermione back on his side.

Draco remembered how he'd even arrived at this point, about to turn his back on family and friends he'd known his whole life. But this was no life, the existence he led under Voldemort's regime. It had to end.

It all started at the beginning of summer, when he first sought out Severus just days after Dumbledore was killed.

_"Severus..." he said hesitantly as his former professor ushered him into his home. He stood silently in the center of the room as the intimidating man peered down at him, arms folded across his chest. No, he wasn't welcome here. Not at all.  
><em>

_"Are you coming to accuse me of taking your precious glory? For killing Dumbledore for you?" Snape sneered.  
><em>

_"No...no, I came because...because I, well, I need your help."_

_"My help? Oh, but it was only a few months ago you were a one-man agent. You didn't need my help."_

_"I was wrong," Draco said, hanging his head. He couldn't bear to look at the man's steely gaze.  
><em>

_"Well, there's a surprise. Perhaps you aren't such a child after all."_

_Draco wanted to get down to the reason he was there. He didn't want to be patronized by this man any more. He knew Snape was angry with him for how he acted all year, also that he was forced into a position to kill Dumbledore, and then their conversation just a few days before had irritated him again. "The unbreakable vow you made with my mother. Is that broken now? Or now that the task is done, is it void?"_

_"And why is that important? Is your life in danger?" Snape was suddenly more alert, more serious. He did not let on too much, but even Draco could pick up on the slight change in his tone._

_"It will be if I can't trust you," Draco pointed out._

_"Why are you coming to me for help? Why not go to your father?"_

_"How did Dumbledore know so much about my plan?"_

_"You're wondering how the brightest wizard knew about the attempts of a foolish youth to murder him?" Snape asked, his tone mocking._

_Draco scowled. "What kinds of things would you tell Dumbledore to make him think you were on his side? Did you tell him anything about me?"_

_Severus could tell what the boy was getting at, but he was doing a horrible job of it. "Draco, you're going about this all wrong."_

_"What? I haven't said anything!"_

_"Your questions imply that I was in fact working for Dumbledore first, not the Dark Lord. Is that what you want to know?"_

_"Well I don't expect you'd just tell anyone that flat out."_

_"Why do you want to know, Draco? Has someone put you up to this?" his professor asked, searching his face for any sign of betrayal._

_"No!" Draco assured him. And he looked around Snape's small home. "I hope we aren't being overheard here."_

_"Maybe you should've check that before," Snape pointed out._

_"Are we?" Malfoy said, now more alert and beginning to remove his wand._

_"No, Draco. Calm down. Just pointing out, again, that you really aren't going about your business in the best way. So now spit it out Draco. What is it you want?"_

_The man was infuriating. He knew what Draco wanted, and didn't even seem surprised that Draco was here. Draco wondered if he should even go through with what he was about to do simply out of annoyance at the idea of working closely with this man indefinitely. Because right now, the idea of carrying on with the status quo was almost more appealing._

_"Were you working for Dumbledore?"_

_"Draco, you cannot come into my house and ask questions of me without first stating what your business here is. Don't make me read your mind."_

_"You know I can block you."_

_"Yes, your aunt taught you well, but you aren't any kind of expert yet."_

_"Must you put me down at every turn!" Draco lashed out, sick of being treated like a child._

_"You ask for it," Severus pointed out. The boy was actually exceptionally good at Occlumency, but he wouldn't dare fuel this boy's ego. "Now, you'll tell me what you're really doing here or I'll have to ask you to leave."_

_"I need to get out."_

_"Out?" Severus pushed._

_"You know what I'm talking about," Draco said sternly. _

_Severus observed him closely for what felt like a long time. "I see...why?" he finally replied, not letting his facial expression nor his tone betray anything._

_Draco let out a deep breath he hadn't known he was holding in. "I...I don't want to kill people. I wish...I wanted to take Dumbledore's offer. No matter how impossible it really is, especially now. I...hate _him_," Draco said with such a venomous emphasis on _him _that it could've only meant Voldemort. "I don't want to do his bidding, I don't want my life in that maniac's hands. Because that's what he is, a maniac. I don't care about the mudbloods, I don't care about the power, I don't want it if I have to use it to torture and kill. I'm not capable of it! I don't even know what the hell his whole campaign is really about. And I can't take it anymore!" As Draco continued he became more and more expressive, less hesitant and everything he'd been thinking since that night on the tower came tumbling from his mouth._

_"You've already been given the mark...how do you expect to just get out?" Severus asked, still not showing any sign of giving help._

_"I don't know! That's why I'm here!"_

_"I'm only asking to see what you've been thinking so far, Draco. Don't get so worked up. Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"_

_"No one."_

_"Not even an inkling?"_

_"No. This is the first time the words have ever left my mouth."_

_Snape gave a curt nod. He then performed several charms over his home, anything he could think of to ensure no one could come in, no one could overhear and no one would see any of their conversation._

_"What I tell you stays here. And what you learn remains forever protected in the depths of your mind."_

_"Dumbledore knew as much of your plan as I knew, and I told him everything I could find out. And that I had performed an unbreakable vow with your mother. Not because I was pretending to work for him, but because I was working against Voldemort. I still am against Voldemort."_

_"So aunt Bella was right?"_

_"Yes, you're dreadful aunt is right. And you should know too, that it was part of Dumbledore's plan for me to kill him. He knew the time would come and he didn't want you to do it."_

_"How could he have predicted that?"_

_"Dumbledore has been able to plan for many things. Potter and his friends are in their last stages before the final battle can take place. But when that time comes, very likely next summer, everything will be set and he can be defeated."_

_"What are they doing?" Draco asked, eager and curious._

_"I cannot say, no one can know."_

_Draco sulked, disliking that wonder boy and his lackeys could have information he wasn't privy to. "Grow up, Draco. Be happy it's that boy's fight and not yours."_

_"Is there any hope for me to get out of this?"_

_"It won't be easy, but I can try to help you. What about your parents?"_

_"No matter what, if I get out, I can't have them killed because of it. They need to be protected."_

_Snape gave a curt nod. "That is fair enough. If I help you though, I will ask that you help me. You cannot just turn a blind eye to all that's happening now and go free to live and enjoy your life while the rest of us battle on to save thousands from the hands of Voldemort. You will do your part."_

_"My part?"_

_"Yes. You'll help us defeat him."_

_Draco was silent. "You can't sit on the sidelines, Draco. You have to take a stance and act on it."_

And that's what Draco did. He took a stance and picked a side. When Granger came around and their plan expanded, Snape's directives were to never harm her and to gain her trust. He kept to that plan perfectly too, up until today. What he stood by and let happen, what he participated in was a form of torture. He put his hands on her in a way that shamed her, a way that violated her. His heart sank and his stomach turned violently. All he wanted was to run down to her and tell her everything, tell her that he was sorry. But he couldn't. Not until it was time to go through with the plan.

He left Snape's office after a few more words and prepared for facing Granger in the morning. He hoped desperately that she wouldn't hate him forever, but felt he almost deserved it. His anger at her had disappeared and all that was left was a gut wrenching remorse.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Very early in the morning, Draco returned. Hermione thought he looked like he had something important on his mind. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed that he hadn't slept at all.

"Follow me," he said gruffly.

"Where?" she demanded. No longer did she have any faith in him or trust his directions. It didn't matter that in private he showed a lack of conviction in death eater ideals or that he didn't seem to want to follow in the footsteps of his father. Their more private, intimate moments had all likely been part of some scheme. Some tactic of his to make her crack. She knew now that when it came down to it, he wouldn't stand up to his father.

"You'll see," he said.

She hesitated and he rolled his eyes. "You really have no choice in the matter, Granger. Now hurry up and move before I make you."

Hesitantly, she took a step towards him which evidently wasn't quick enough because with a sigh of frustration he came towards her, grabbed her upper arm and pulled her from the room.

"Ouch, Malfoy!" she said, trying to pull her arm away.

"Prisoners aren't to be walking the halls without restraints. You're lucky I haven't put you in shackles," he snapped back at her.

She nearly growled in anger at his response. "Where are we going?" she demanded, now with fear seeping into her voice. She couldn't help it, not after yesterday.

"You'll see," he repeated. He led her to a secret passage way that had a set of wide stairs leading up for what felt like forever. All along the passage, he kept his hold on her arm, but after awhile, his grip weakened and he brushed his thumb in small, reassuring circles over her arm. She wondered if he did this on purpose or absently.

"Malfoy -" she said, craning to get a look at his hidden face. All she wanted was to know what he thought in this moment.

"_Shh!_" he hissed at her as they came to the top of the stairs. He peered around the corner, keeping her firmly behind him.

He then looked at her, his gaze softer than it had been all morning. "I need you to walk with me in complete silence. Not a single word," he whispered urgently. "I'm risking both our necks right now and I'd appreciate you not screwing it up."

She glared at him. "I'm not someone who screws things up, Malfoy," she hissed.

He narrowed his eyes, but nodded nonetheless.

He trailed his hand slowly from her upper arm down to her hand and clasped it tightly in his.

Gingerly, he stepped from behind the hidden door frame and into a dimly lit hallway. Hermione followed, taking in her surroundings, ensuring that she memorized the way to their destination and the look of the place in case she had a chance for escape.

His own heavy shoes tread loudly against the hard wood floor. Hermione walked, almost on tip-toe to avoid making even the slightest sound with her feet against the floor. She could hear voices coming from one of the rooms on her right and she subconsciously gripped Malfoy's hand harder, to which he returned a reassuring squeeze. He appeared to be taking them towards another hallway that opened at the end on the left. After a quick glance, he swiftly pulled her behind him and led him over to the door at the very end of that short passage.

After a series of unlocking spells, the opened the door and thrust her inside ahead of him and then quietly shut the door behind him after checking once again that no one had seen them.

Hermione looked around in wonder at the room in front of her. She was met with the sight of off-white walls, the faintest baby pink, plush carpeting underneath her toes, and the scent of lavender. A large canopied bed was situated in the center of the far wall and a set of couches and chairs near a bookshelf were nestled in the corner to her right. Just ahead of her, to the left of the bed was a large window, through which she saw the outside world for the first time and tears rose to her eyes.

If Malfoy noticed, he didn't say anything. All he did was call his house elf to him, who arrive a second later.

"Prinky, bring Granger here a good meal later, in secret. Anything left over from our dinner tonight, you bring a plate for her. And do not tell anyone. If anyone sees you, it is for me. You will not answer any questions beyond that."

"Yes, master."

"Malfoy, what's that about?" Hermione said, looking at him in complete and utter confusion.

Finally he looked at her, but he kept his emotions hidden. "Tonight at midnight, the Dark Lord has plans to make use of you in the public circle of death eaters. I think he means to force you into something. I am not sure what it is, but he has accomplished something that only he and my aunt seem to know of."

"Tonight?" she said weakly. She looked at the window, wondering how likely it would be to formulate an escape route with no wand, with no one to count on to help her.

"Don't even think about jumping," Draco said with concern.

"Jumping?" she said. "I'm not suicidal. More like escaping."

"I wouldn't count on that either," he then walked past her and into the connected bathroom. "So you should have all of your essential needs in here," he said as she followed him towards the room that shocked her even more than the bedroom. He opened the door to the most luxurious bathroom she'd ever seen in a private home - fully equipped with a Jacuzzi, a shower large enough for ten people, and the counter on the opposite wall was filled with any magical makeup products anyone could ever need. She could hardly believe her eyes and couldn't understand why he'd brought her here.

Having ensured everything was in order, he left the bathroom and walked over to the door. Apparently thinking he could just leave without any explanation. She certainly didn't care to talk to him much either, but she felt he owed her some type of explanation after yesterday.

"Malfoy!" she called after him. "Really, what is all this about?"

"Relax today," he said. "I was only meant to bring you here briefly to have Prinky clean and dress you for the gathering. But I thought you...well I thought you deserved some time to yourself outside of the dungeon."

"But someone could come in at any time," Hermione pointed out, trying to read his expression which was still utterly unreadable. "What if they check my cell?" She wondered if this was to make up for yesterday. Or if it was because he felt bad in some way she was likely going to her death later. But she couldn't even try to figure it out as he was now avoiding her eyes once again.

He turned around and cast a charm on the door and then faced her again, this time looking at her with a reassuring smile. "No one can come in but me now," he said. "Regardless, there's too much happening up there for them to worry about prisoners. I want you to be comfortable today. So relax."

She almost did feel reassured, but couldn't get what happened yesterday out of her mind. Sure, when he was alone he was kind, even easy to get along with at times, but now she doubted she could really trust him. When it came down to it, he would do what his father asked, and what Voldemort asked.

"Oh, and your clothes are just there on the dresser," he said. And without another word, not even acknowledging her attempt to call him back for more answers, he left.

The hours passed and she lounged in a daze. Finally she managed to fee warm again for the first time in ages by taking a long, much needed shower. The bathroom was full of all types of lotions and perfumes for the skin. She steered clear of the unknown perfumes, but used a bit of lavender lotion to keep her skin from drying after the shower. On another shelf near the vanity sat a slew of beauty potions for anything she could've imagined as well as a wide assortment of makeup options. All of these she avoided as well, as tempting as some of them were, even for her. She would not play into this "gift" and doll herself up only to be tormented and ridiculed by Voldemort and his death eaters. If Malfoy set this up on purpose, he was a fool. He should've known better than to think she'd be vain enough to use these and be lured into a false sense of security. She let herself carry on naturally, and put on the clothes she'd found in the drawer. They were nothing more than lounge wear – basic, comfortable, and made of cotton. She then surveyed the bedroom and wondered what she could do with herself for the rest of the day, until she spotted a book sitting on the table.

Eagerly approaching the table, as it had been ages since she'd even seen a book, she couldn't help the amused smile that grew on her face as she noted the author - Henry Wilkhelm. _The smarmy git _she thought to herself. Of course he'd give her a book by the author they'd disagreed about. But nonetheless, she picked up the book and started reading. She read and read and read all day long, sometimes taking a few breaks for naps on the comfortable bed. Prinky brought her a wonderful meal early into the evening and then she returned to her book, although the later it got, the more difficult she found it to focus. More and more, she found her mind wandering to predict what would happen to her later. Escaping truly wasn't an option. The fall from the window would be deadly and there was nothing around to grab onto. She also feared sticking her head out for too long to figure it out. She didn't know how many people were around the Manor on a daily basis and couldn't risk someone seeing her up here in these quarters.

Soon she wondered why Malfoy hadn't shown up already. With midnight fast approaching, surely she should've received some word of what was to take place. She hardly expected to be going down there in pajamas. Malfoy had made it sound like it was a formal event, one even she'd be cleaned up for, although that didn't make it any less ominous. Time ticked by and she grew more and more flustered, before she'd worn herself out with worry and laid down and fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Malfoy burst in much later that evening. His arrival startled her, as she'd still been sleeping. He appeared manic and instantly she grew worried.<p>

"I've brought clothes for you. I need you to get fully dressed and come with me now," Draco said urgently.

"Where?" Hermione demanded, getting up from her chair. She left the book sitting on the chair where she'd just been. She would get an explanation before doing anything he asked. After two months in prison, she was wary of anywhere a death eater could ask her to go. Even if it was Draco. He may be kind in private, but in public, his loyalties were clear.

"I'll explain once you're ready, so hurry up," he said briskly and pulled her up from the chair and threw a bundle of clothes into her hand.

"I will not go easily to my grave. Or whatever worse fate Voldemort has planned for me. You explain now or I won't do anything you demand of me!"

His scowl was mean and hard, clearly not expecting this type of pushback. She noted the agitation and impatience in his demeanor. "It's in your best interest to get dressed and follow me. Immediately."

"You expect me to do that? I know you're all nice in private but anywhere else you go, it's clear I can't trust you."

"Granger! Stop, just stop talking! How stupid could you possibly be?" he shouted at her as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly.

She opened her mouth to respond but then apparently decided on a better option than shaking her. He took hold of her face between his hands, roughly forced her eyes directly on his.

"How long is it going to take for you to understand I don't want to hurt you? I'm trying to escape with you right now."

She stared at him in awe. Escape? What did he have planned? And how long had he been planning this without telling her?

"Now put the fucking clothes on. We have to leave _now_."

She ran to the bathroom and within a minute was completely changed into warmer, more seasonal clothes. Her mind reeled, trying to piece it all together. His clear lack of commitment to the cause didn't make his desertion as surprising. What she couldn't wrap her head around was his ability to leave his family. Unless they all were in on it. But no…certainly not Lucius…not when he…

As she changed in the bathroom, she called out to him, "Why couldn't you have just told me this from the beginning. I could've done something, I wouldn't have questioned you. Why do you have to be so damn secretive?"

"I'll explain all that later, Granger," he responded impatiently.

_Damn him, _she thought. She needed answers and needed them now. Jerking the warm sweater over her head, she flung the door open and returned to the bedroom.

"Where are we going?" she said.

"Order headquarters," he snapped, now brusquely handing her a pair of brown oxfords and a warm coat.

"Headquarters?" And suddenly it clicked. "You've been working for them?" she asked while rapidly donning the shoes and jacket.

"Yes, although not overtly. And we're going there if we can finally get out of here. But first - first I need your help stealing something from my aunt's office. Two things actually."

"What are we stealing?"

"Your wand and something else. Now we need to leave, before someone else comes looking for you. We only have fifteen minutes, and if we fail..." He shuddered visibly.

She stepped right up next to him. "I'm trusting you Malfoy. And if you betray it again, I will make it my life's mission to make sure you regret it."

In his eyes she saw a flicker of guilt before he quickly covered it up with annoyance and frustration. "Let's just get on with it already," he said and stomped towards the fireplace.

"How are we getting there?" she asked skeptically as she followed him. Using the floo network seemed completely absurd in this circumstance.

"Floo," he replied crisply and didn't bother to offer her any more explanation.

"How? Surely she's locked her networks from unapproved guests," Hermione pointed out with some annoyance.

"I've been working on changing that," was his short response as he grabbed some of the powder from a jar atop the mantelpiece. "Easier and safer than trying to remove both her apparition wards and those around the manor."

He certainly had a knack for bridging portal openings. First the cabinets and now he'd reconfigured a piece of the floo network. His skills were beyond what she imagined.

"But we have limited time," he reminded her. "I configured them to open and close on my command. At precisely midnight we need to be through the network and into the safehouse so I can cast the charm to lock it permanently again. Otherwise she or anyone else will be able to follow us through. We only have fifteen minutes, Granger."

She certainly didn't need the constant reminder. "This isn't my first time working under pressure," she reminded him. It had essentially become a way of life since she was twelve years old.

"So you're ready?" he asked, looking down at her with serious eyes.

"I have no other choice but to be," Hermione replied. The truth of every situation she'd found herself in. If she let her fear consumer her, she'd meet her downfall.

"We'll go together," he then said, taking a step closer to her. He said it like a warning, that he would have to touch her. "It will only work if I'm traveling through."

"How can two people fit at once?" she said, never knowing of people traveling through the network together. It would be painfully tight for certain.

He stepped into the fireplace and turned around. With a smirk, he said, "Like this," and pulled her in with him, so close she could feel every part of his body flush against hers. Naturally to catch her balance, her arms found their way around his waist, but she tried to keep from holding too tight. She was closer to him than when she'd been pinned against the wall with his father in the room and she blushed, thankful the lights in the room didn't fully illuminate the fireplace so he couldn't see how uncomfortable the position made her. _Uncomfortable in a bad way...right?_ she thought to herself, wishing that these thoughts would subside. It wasn't the time or place for this nonsense.

"Hold on tight," he said and she hoped his slightly amused tone was just in her imagination. But her discomfort must have been apparent.

She let her arms tighten around his body, and pressed her palms flat against his back.

"Lestrange Manor," he stated clearly as he threw the powder to the ground around them, and the green flames engulfed them as they lurched from Malfoy Manor and into the floo network.

Even through the whirlwind of traveling through the network, she couldn't help noticing that once they were lifted off the ground, their legs intertwined and they melded together almost as one person. Her hands clenched his shirt tight in his hands, desperate to stay connected to him, although his grasp told her he wouldn't let her get away regardless. His arms had tightened protectively around her, with one hand on her lower back pulling her closer, and his other hand cradling her head against his chest. He held her like a fragile animal he was afraid of losing if he let go.

They traveled through slowly, likely because it was modified path they followed. For an entire minute the jarring and loud tunnels of the network, holding on tightly to one another. If it wasn't so loud that they could barely hear their own thoughts, it would've been highly uncomfortable to be so close without saying anything about it. Finally, their feet met a hard surface with a landing so jarring with the two of them that they stumbled apart, grabbing onto the wall as they rushed from the fireplace to keep their balance.

Hermione took notice of her surroundings. Everything in the office was so dark it was nearly black, and there was very little lighting. Strange, dangerous looking objects littered shelves and tables around the room. Clearly dark objects that in previous years would have been confiscated by the Ministry in a heartbeat. She shuddered to think of what these objects were used for, and of what created the off-putting smell that permeated the office. A chilling sound emanated from one of the cabinets on the far side of the room and she prayed she wouldn't have to go any closer to it.

"There's the case where she keeps all of our prisoners wands," Malfoy said, dragging her out of her thoughts. "I trust you can find your own while I take care of this," he continued, gesturing to a small box he'd just found with a locator spell she'd never heard of before. It was protected by and housing something dark, that much she could tell from the immediate change in the atmosphere as Malfoy studied it. Something that sounded like a hissing whisper came from inside of it that sent chills down her spine. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. If Malfoy said he would take care of it, she had to leave him to it and take care of her task. She would be useless if she didn't find her wand, especially more so if they didn't get the object out of that box in time.

Thankful that she didn't have to go to the cabinet with the strange noise coming from inside, she made her way halfway across the room to the large black cabinet Malfoy had pointed out to her. Upon opening it, she was met with boxes on boxes on boxes, all of which looked identical, and she prayed there weren't that many wands. She shuddered to think of Voldemort holding that many prisoners already.

Starting at the top, she pulled a box down, and all it held was basic potions ingredients. She pulled down another and there were dead mice in jars. Letting out a sound of revulsion, she frantically replaced that one on the top shelf. She went through box after box, from top, to the middle, and when she finally reached the bottom shelf, she began to fear she would find the wands. Time ticked away, and she didn't know what she'd do if it wasn't in here. Malfoy too was make frustrated sounds from the other side of the room.

When she picked up the box in the center of the bottom shelf, she immediately knew she held the right box in her hands. She could feel the magic coming off the wands and when she opened the box she was happy to find only about twenty inside. Hoping there weren't more boxes hidden elsewhere, she dug around until she spotted hers. As she gripped it in her hand, for the first time in too long, she felt whole again. Warmth flooded her being and she took a moment to savor the sensation. She put the lid on the box and placed it back where she found it. For a second she considered taking the entire box with her, as one never knew in times like these when an extra wand might be needed. But she knew they'd have to leave everything exactly as they found it, or Bellatrix would know they'd been here.

Closing the cabinet, she walked over the desk Malfoy had set the box on, still toiling over the charms that kept it sealed.

"You find it, Granger?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"It's a horcrux we need to get out of here," he said next, surprising her.

"You know about those?" she replied, her eyes wide.

"Snape had to inform me for this mission."

"Well how do we get in there? We can't just take the whole box?"

He shook his head. "It's too well protected to get through the floo network. Too protected to even leave this office without Bellatrix carrying it. This is her own dark object. I don't want to know what would happen if we tried taking this out. But if we can get what isn't hers out of there, then we can carry it freely. I've already made it through all the other surface protections. Typical spells. Some dark magic. But this one, requires blood. Snape warned me it might."

"Blood?" Hermione repeated. She knew that the darkest of charms all required blood.

"Yes." And without warning he grabbed her hand and she felt a sharp slice made in her palm.

"Ah! You son of a bitch, what are you thinking?" she shouted at him, outraged that he didn't even look remotely sorry as he looked at her blood on the knife he'd used.

"Perfect."

"Perfect?" she shrieked as he tapped the knife so that two drops fell into the key hole.

But he ignored her and started speaking in low tones, in a chanting voice, that of an incantation.

"_Blood of a mudblood unwillingly spilt. For with such is the future in time to be built. Blood of my own or blood of my kin for we stay together in light and in sin." _At this last line, he used another blade and cut his own hand, and again let two droplets fall into the key hole. As he finished, the box hissed and flew open. Inside was a badge with the Durmstrang crest set in the center. She wondered what the significance of this crest was for Voldemort, why he'd chosen this for a new horcrux, but she couldn't dwell on it.

Hesitantly, knowing full well what he was picking up, Malfoy reached into the box and delicately lifted the horcrux out. Swiftly, he then wrapped it in a black cloth he'd had in his pocket and stuffed it deep into his inside coat pocket and buttoned it shut.

"Get ready at the fireplace, Granger. I need to reseal this box as best I can to make it look like it hasn't been tampered with," he said.

She nodded and moved over to the fireplace and watched him replace all of the wards he'd removed. All of this took a few minutes and when he finished he made a stressed sound as he hid the box back where he'd found it. Again he grabbed floo from the mantelpiece here and reassumed his position against her. "Two minutes, Granger."

"Well hurry up then!" she demanded, swiftly and tightly fastening her arms around him just as she had before. There were no thoughts of their closeness this time. All she could think of was getting through the network safely.

"Twelve Grimuald Place," Malfoy said firmly as he again through the powder down and they were sent through the tunnels once more.

Further to travel meant a longer ride. When they finally landed, Hermione thought for sure it was too late. But if it had been, then she wouldn't be standing in the living room of Grimuald place. As Malfoy check his watch, she caught the time. They had thirty seconds to spare. She sighed with relief, but didn't quite let her guard down until he finished breaking the route he'd created for this mission and put up extra protections against this floo opening.

They both jumped with a clock from another room chimed midnight, and Hermione couldn't help the smile that slowly grew on her face. She turned to see Malfoy already looking at her, a similar expression of relief in his own face.

Without thinking about how silly it might be, she hugged him. He seemed startled at first, and she thought for certain she'd overstepped a boundary. This wasn't Harry or Ron she'd completed a mission with. It was Malfoy. Not someone to be hugging so freely. But after a moment, he pressed her body firmly against his own and she felt his body relax against hers.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I'm glad you've escaped too," she said softly.

She felt him inhale, the type of intake before speaking, but whatever he had to say, she didn't hear it as his words were cut off.

"Let her go, Malfoy!" she heard Ron's enraged voice from her right. The flew apart and Hermione was met with the angry eyes of Ron and the perplexed eyes of Harry.

"Wait! He's not a true death eater!" Hermione urged, taking a step forward.

"Hermione, what are you talking about?" Harry said, sounding confused and concerned. She appreciated that his tone wasn't accusatory or directed at Malfoy. Ron on the other hand hadn't even looked at her. All of his energy seemed focused on trying to kill Malfoy with an evil death glare. "How do we even know it's you?"

She knew it must have looked strange. Her arriving here with Malfoy and hugging him. "Ask me anything," she said.

"What did you give me for Christmas in our first year?" Harry asked.

"Chocolate Frogs," Hermione replied. Harry looked satisfied by this answer and so she persisted. "I swear, he's not on their side. He's helped me escape and has been planning on doing so for months. We can trust him."

"It must be Stockholm syndrome," Ron noted, not taking her seriously at all.

"Oh look the Weasel thinks it's clever. Bet you only just learned what that is today, you dumb oaf," Draco shot back.

And with that the three of them were at each other's throats, shouting and pointing at each other. Hermione couldn't believe the display in front of her. When wands were raised, she immediately stepped in.

"Stop it all of you!" she shouted over the others. Her two best friends stopped and turned their accusatory glares onto her, angry that she'd interrupted their impending duel with Malfoy.

"I'll hex all three of you into oblivion if you don't stop snapping at each other. And what a good riddance it would be! Harry and Ron, he is _not_ a death eater anymore. We can trust him. He saved my life," Hermione said taking her place beside Malfoy, making her position physically clear as well.

Their eyes were the size of saucers. Even Malfoy looked a little surprised she'd so resolutely defended him.

"Let's go sit down and I'll explain everything," she said. Harry and Ron looked at each other, mirroring expressions of disbelief. But then they looked back at her and nodded their acceptance. They'd hear out her story, as insane as they thought she surely had become.

This would be one long, strange night.

* * *

><p>AN: Sorry of the long time between updates! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the changes it will bring for Draco and Hermione now that they are in a new setting. With other people in the mix, things are definitely about to change.<p>

I also really want to thank those of you who have been following this story regularly and leaving the really detailed and specific reviews. I appreciate any of the time anyone takes to review a story and the reviews are so helpful. Let's me know what's working and what isn't. I hope to get the next chapters up sooner, for this story and my other ones.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Explaining to Ron and Harry was easier than she'd expected. She knew that they'd ask her far more questions tomorrow privately, when Malfoy wasn't around. For the most part Harry asked the questions and Ron sat in stunned silence, only breaking out of his stupor to glare periodically at Malfoy.

Malfoy also sat in inconspicuous silence, speaking only when spoken to. Hermione at first didn't feel as comfortable speaking on behalf of both of them, and waited for him to jump in after a few questions, but realized quickly that he had no interest in rehashing everything for Harry. He wanted to be trusted, but seemed to know that Hermione's word would count for far more than his. And so she talked away, explaining everything that happened to her and his role in everything, leaving out their more private moments as those would surely have had Harry and Ron cursing him in an instant. She also left out the entire ordeal with his father. The time would come to discuss it, but that matter would stay forever between herself and Draco.

When they'd all gone upstairs for bed, Hermione waited to be sure she heard the click of Ron and Harry's door across the hall before leaving her own room and tiptoeing to Draco's room next door.

She knocked gently, hoping he wouldn't already be asleep. He'd undoubtedly had an exhausting day preparing for this secret mission, but she wanted to talk to him now before they saw Harry and Ron again in the morning.

Slowly, he opened the door. He looked exhausted, and she frowned slightly wondering if coming here now was the best choice. But he gave her a small smile and opened the door fully for her to enter.

"I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to see that you'd settled in and everything. I know it's not what you're used to..." she said trailing off at the end as she looked around his room.

"I'd rather be here in this strange house than still at home, Granger. I'd rather be living in a hovel at this point," he said with a dark laugh. At this time he sat down on his bed, and following his lead, Hermione sat in a chair facing him at the corner of the bed.

"I won't lie, I'm still amazed you turned your back on it all," Hermione noted.

"I would be too if I hadn't been planning it for so long. But I do feel guilty, Granger. Guilty because I abandoned my father. But I'm doing it for the Malfoy name - because if our allegiance is found to be on the wrong side at the end, our line is done," he explained with a sad note to his voice. I needed to do something I knew my father wouldn't be able to do."

In this moment, she regretted calling him a coward the other day. Of course, she had no idea when she'd said it. But this was a courageous act on his part, and she hoped he was aware of it.

"What about your mother?"

"She encouraged me."

Hermione looked at him, shocked. "What? She knew?"

"Not explicitly. But after the episode with Dumbledore, she hugged me when I returned and said 'Get out of this, Draco. I want you to get out.' I knew what she meant. I'd seen her thinking it even before that disaster at Hogwarts. And after thinking about it for a few days, I talked to Severus."

"Wait...so Severus has still been working against Voldemort?" Hermione said, this bit of information making no sense whatsoever in her brain. "But he _killed _Dumbledore."

Malfoy was shaking his head. "I know. He wouldn't give me any details, just that it was between him and Dumbledore. But he really is on your side. He's the one who's been giving them anonymous tip offs this entire time. But he told me to tell them it was me when I got here with you. Granger, no one can know about Severus being loyal to the order. You can't even tell Potter and Weasley," he said in earnest.

Slowly she nodded. "I promise you I won't tell," she said seriously, holding his gaze. This revelation still didn't make enough sense to her to just go blabbing about it first chance she got anyways. "This is all just so unbelievable. Why didn't you ever just tell me what you were really doing all this time?"

"Because I couldn't risk it. Not one person aside from Severus could know. Voldemort could've stopped in at any time and you'd have been too weak to block his mind probing effectively. Effectively enough to block out something like that."

"You underestimate me," she pointed out, disappointed he thought so little of her abilities, as childish as the notion was.

"I'm sure I do. Most brilliant witch of our age, aren't you?"

"Was that a compliment?"

Draco didn't respond, but gave a half smile.

"I hope we can be friends and work together, Malfoy. Harry and Ron will come around. And I think we'll really benefit from having you here."

"You want me to stay?" he replied, surprised.

"Were you just going to leave now?"

"Well, Severus said all I had to do was help him get you out. That would be my way of contributing to the fight. Then I could join my mother on an island very far north in Scotland and hide until the war is over."

She felt a sharp pang in her chest at the thought, but tried to keep her voice neutral. She wasn't sure where these feelings were coming from. It seemed perfectly reasonable for him to leave - what attachment did he have to anyone here? He was only decent towards her because it would help him clear his name with the Order when he escaped. "So after all this, you're just going to run off?" she asked, and then cursed herself because she couldn't keep her voice neutral even a little bit. She sounded completely accusatory.

"I haven't said that! I just told you what Severus offered," he said, somewhat defensively.

"So what are you going to do then?"

"You all want me to stay and work with you?" he asked dubiously.

"Well, you could be an asset...you know how his ranks and operations work. And Severus certainly can't risk it anymore, if he is still on our side."

"He is. But it won't be so easy, you know. Potter and the Weasel won't want me around at all."

"Harry will faster than Ron will, and that's what really matters. If Harry says you're in, then you're in. And I say you're in. So that's a two thirds majority right there. And Ron will come around eventually."

Draco gave a small smile. "Thank you, for being on my side in this. I'm sure it's not easy."

She noted, with mild disappointment, that he did not confirm or deny if he would stay to help in this fight. She resisted the urge to push the issue.

"From what I've come to understand, you've been doing more than we knew to help take Voldemort down since before I arrived in that cell. It's easy enough," she said.

Draco gave a slight nod, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. "That's another thing I feel guilty about...you, in that cell, with my father...and I just..." he was looking at her wildly, as though pleading with her to understand. "Please, you have to know that I had to keep up the act so everything we just did in the past twenty-four hours could be pulled off."

Hermione moved from her chair and sat next to him on the bed. She placed her hand on his that was sitting clenched in his lap. "I realize that now. And I forgive you for it."

Some of the tension left his body. "Thanks, Granger."

Hermione withdrew her hand, not wanting to linger too long and disturb him. She wanted him to be comfortable here, but it was something strange and new. She hardly knew how to act around him now that she wasn't a prisoner and he was looking out for her.

"I'm sure you're tired," she said as she stood up. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did to help me although I do know it was also for yourself and your family too."

Draco nodded in acknowledgement. "It's time I went to check on my mother now, actually."

"Now?" Hermione said, surprised.

Draco nodded. "My mother had plans to leave right at the start of the Voldemort's meeting. Or just before really. Because I can assure you, once they realized we were gone a couple hours ago, they looked for my parents next. And if my mother had stayed, she'd be punished for my disobedience."

Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after two o'clock in the morning. She could hardly believe that just a couple hours ago she and Malfoy made their escape. Suddenly she wondered what had happened at Malfoy Manor when they discovered their disappearance. She realized too that this must have been bothering Malfoy since they'd managed their escape. Perhaps it explained his silence a bit more, if he was also distracted by concern for his mother getting out into safety. And anything else that might have been happening in his childhood home.

"Where is your mother?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know yet. Severus gave me a portkey. It will work for a couple more hours to get me there."

"Are you sure that's safe?"

"I know I can trust Severus. He did help us get here didn't he?"

"Are you sure you should go alone? I could go with you," Hermione said, somewhat hesitantly suggesting that she join him. She wasn't sure what she could do, but she also knew that it was a risk, no matter how trustworthy Snape was, to go to an unknown location on the eve of a breakout from death eaters, all alone.

"I am certain it's better I see her alone rather than with any of you. Especially if my father was convinced to join her."

"Your father?"

"She was going to ask my father to leave with her. It's really unlikely though, he's too caught up in all of it still," Malfoy explained and Hermione was shocked. Surely even suggesting to Lucius that she was leaving would put Narcissa in danger. And what if Lucius did agree only to foil their plan and Draco was walking into a death trap this very moment? Hermione's thoughts were getting out of hand and she had to calm herself down.

"But you can't be sure it's safe yet," Hermione pointed out, keeping her voice calm. "You should have someone to back you up."

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a glowing, blue coin. "Severus has a matching one. It's glowing blue because the house is safe and she made it there. If it was red, that would've been his sign to stay away."

"So you're leaving right this minute then?"

He nodded. "Not sure when I'll be back."

"You actually do plan on coming back then?" Hermione asked, keeping her voice neutral. She wanted him to return, but didn't want to sound too hopeful. She was hardly sure of where these emotions were coming from. The concern and the attachment towards Draco Malfoy of all people. They'd just been through something together, sure, but they were nowhere near on the level she shared with Ron and Harry, and she needed to stop acting like they were.

He smirked. "Someone's getting attached. What would Potty and the Weasel think to know the brains of their operation has a soft spot for a former death eater?"

"Ugh, hardly," she snapped, more irritated at herself for being so transparent. "Like I said before, I think you'd be a great asset. Just want to know for logistic purposes," she continued, her voice completely flat. She almost wanted to congratulate herself on how successfully indifferent she'd sounded until he abruptly stood up and went to collect his shoes near the door. Quickly, he slipped the shoes on and laced them, and when he looked up, his gaze was no longer as soft or as open as it had been throughout the majority of their conversation.

"Well, I'll have to get back to you on that I think," he said, his voice coming out hard and cold. "It may not make sense for me to come back at all, _logistically._"

Hermione bit her lip in confusion. "I-well, I understand if something else comes up that you need to do with regards to your mother." _Merlin could I sound any more formal and uncomfortable, _she berated herself before continuing. "Even if you decide not to come back and help us, could you..." she trailed off, not sure how to phrase what she wanted. She had no right to ask. She didn't even understand why she was asking.

"Could I?" he prodded. He stood right in front of her now, towering over her. She thought his eyes were softening a bit, but what had her on edge was his closeness. He didn't touch her, but she could feel the heat from his body, which oddly made her shiver.

"Could you at least just let me know that you and your mother are okay?" She felt like a complete nag.

He then smiled down at her, a real genuine smile, but she caught a hint of smugness in his eyes at the same time. "I'll see you in a few days," he said. And within the next two seconds he'd put his hand into his left pocket where the portkey must have been and disappeared.

She was stunned at how quickly his anger had dispersed. Too quickly for it to have been genuine. Only a few seconds after he'd left, it clicked in her mind that he wasn't mad at all, just wanted to push her into actually showing that she cared in some way. As she returned to her room, she cursed herself for falling for his trick. She'd have her guard up much better next time. It wasn't until she was nearly asleep that a final thought pricked her brain - _why would he even need to know that I care?_

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><p>Without Malfoy around, Hermione was able to catch up with Harry and Ron without any other distractions. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to just be with them, and it was the best way to readjust to life not locked up in a prison cell.<p>

She told herself she'd stop worrying so much about Malfoy. It would only play up this insane infatuation. She needed to get back into her normal life with Harry and Ron. Malfoy's presence should only be a secondary concern. Not even. It should be nothing more than the tiniest of blips on her radar.

Two days into her escape, Hermione sat in the living room late into the night with Ron. Harry had turned in for bed before them. She could see clearly that his connection to Voldemort was taking a toll on him. He was tired and still quite moody. Ron had filler her in on destroying some of the other horcruxes and said that it was worse than this at one time. She wanted nothing more than to take some of that pain away from Harry, but knew there was nothing she could do. Having this other horcrux in the house was just another weight on his mind and they needed to destroy it as soon as possible.

She and Ron were sitting together on the couch and had fallen into a comfortable silence for almost an hour. Hermione read more in her _Tales of Beedle the Bard, _which the boys were luckily able to grab before she'd been captured at the wedding. Ron sat on the other side of the couch, eating and flipping casually through a book he'd found on a shelf. She knew he wasn't reading it, likely just taking in random interesting pictures and facts he stumbled across.

It was past midnight when, with a half stifled yawn, Hermione closed her book. She then stood up and said to Ron, "I think I'm going to head to bed."

He nodded. "Before you go," he said, as he laid aside his own diversions. He stood up and gently grabbed her hand. Hermione was surprised, but let him keep a hold of her hand and returned the gentle pressure. "I'm so glad we have you back, Hermione. I didn't really say it before, and, well...I just really missed you." By the end of this speech, Ron's face was red as a tomato. As if overcome with a strong emotion, he pulled her into a tight hug. Her body was flush against his and she simply couldn't believe how forward he was being. This was not the Ron she'd left behind. The one who couldn't possibly express a single emotion and who would never initiate anything with a girl because he was too afraid of rejection.

She hugged him back, just as hard. "I missed you too. So much," she whispered. When she pulled back, he wasn't quite so red anymore. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn't quite have the words. So there was still a bit of the old Ron in there, but the last few moments were more than she'd ever expected from him.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

She smiled. "Night, Ron."

Hermione left the room with a warmth in her chest, but not the same overwhelming joy she would've expected when this moment she'd always hoped for seemed closer than ever before. And if she was honest with herself, she knew the reason for that was because of Malfoy. He'd wormed his way into her heart, whether she liked it or not. Now her feelings were all muddled up, when they'd once been so crystal clear.

* * *

><p>Hermione paced around her room. Four days now with no word and she was starting to wonder if he'd changed his mind about coming back. She tried to play downplay her concern for Malfoy leaving alone to see his mother, but couldn't keep calm. She just hoped that he was okay and that his mother was okay too, despite the fact she didn't know anything about this woman. About an hour ago she'd left the living room where Harry and Ron were taking some much needed time to just relax before the next big search for the horcrux began. The only reason they were resting was because she needed some time to regain strength after her ordeal in Malfoy Manor. She had lost weight and was still feeling tired.<p>

She constantly kept her ears alert for any sign that he'd arrived. She laid down on her bed to read more, both to figure out why Dumbledore would leave this of all books behind, and also to have a distraction from her worry. Soon though, she was feeling drowsy and the book fell open onto her stomach. She was close to sleep when finally, she heard it - rustling sounds from next door. She raced to the door, flung it open, and sped into the hallway without realizing that he was already out there heading over to see her at that same time. She ran straight into him, nearly knocking herself down in the process, but he grabbed onto her arms to steady her.

"Whoa, where you speeding off too like that? You're about to hurt yourself," Draco said laughing at her.

"To see you, you dolt. How was everything?" She wanted to smack herself in the face for being so forward. So much for acting like she only wanting him here for logistic purposes. This was going against everything she said she'd do - exhibit some self control and not be so invested in the personal matters of someone who was only there to save his skin.

Malfoy laughed. "Well if this is how excited you get when I come back, I'll make sure I leave and come back all the time. Will Potter and Weasley be coming to welcome me too?"

"Oh yes, you just wait here, I'm sure they'll be right up. They might even want to give you a hug."

Malfoy shuddered in disgust. "I was just coming to see you, though," Malfoy said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. Hermione felt a thrill of excitement at being told he was seeking her out, but she squashed the thought almost as soon as it arose. She would not act like a giddy girl any more than she already was. "It's only my mother in the safe house."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, unsure of what else could be said.

"I wasn't too surprised, I suppose. My father resisted."

Hermione did have to admit that she wasn't all that surprised Lucius was more dedicated to Voldemort than his wife and son. She could see it in his ruthlessness, in those moments that were all to fresh in her mind from the cell. "What did he do?" she asked, sensing it wasn't a pleasant and simple 'Oh, no thank you, I'd rather continue working for Voldemort, but I do appreciate the offer' type of resistance that Lucius put up.

"Well, she brought it up with him. Didn't give any details except that she and I had plans to leave. He was livid, threatened to keep her under lock and key and do the same with me. So she fought him. She is not typically the stronger dueler, but she said everything was on the line at that point, and she overpowered him enough to get away, but barely."

"How is she?" Hermione asked, now alarmed she could be seriously injured with no one to help her in that house.

"Tired, and she is in pain. But Severus and I have given her some draughts to help with that. She'll recover, but I'll be going back there again in a few hours to help her some more."

Hermione nodded. "Well I'm glad she is safely away at least."

"That is a huge relief. Father is a disappointment though," he admitted with a frown. "I hoped he would choose family over power, but he has a lust for both power and cruelty that is deeper than I thought."

Harry's voice then interrupted their conversation.

"Hermione? Are you talking to someone up there?"

"Malfoy is back," Hermione said, turning around to walk towards the stairs to better hear and be heard.

"Could you both come down here for a bit? We want to talk about the current situation."

Hermione looked back at Draco. "You up for a conversation now?" She knew he must be tired and not in the best state for something like this, which Harry and Ron were unaware of.

Draco shrugged. "Why not now? Won't be back for another day or two most likely."

Hermione nodded. "Be right there!" she shouted back down the stairs as she turned to make her way down, when Draco suddenly caught her hand.

"Thanks for being there for me. Even if it's just for your_ logistic purposes_," he said with a smirk and gave her hand a squeeze. She couldn't help the warmth that spread through her body, but she ignored it and pulled her hand away under the guise of being annoyed.

"No thanks necessary. Logistically, you need someone to talk to or you'll go crazy. And if you go crazy, you'll be useless to our cause," she said with a false smile and then turned to walk down the stairs. He kept his mirthful smirk up the whole time she spoke, making it obvious to her that she wasn't fooling him one little bit. She walked down the stairs trying to ignore his presence close behind her so she could get her bearings straight before talking with Harry and Ron. She didn't need to so obviously be attracted to someone who not too long ago was a mortal enemy. She just hoped she could get some control over her thoughts regarding Malfoy. Sooner rather than later, or things were bound to get even more complicated, which she really didn't need at this point.

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><p>AN: Thanks again for any and all reviews! I had most of this chapter written already a long time ago which is why I could get it up so quickly after the last chapter. Love when that happens. Let me know what you think! :)<p> 


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